Patrick Dempsey Officially Crowned ‘Sexiest Man Alive’ Again, Internet Collectively Decides To Yell At Clouds
Look, I know we’re all dealing with the slow, agonizing collapse of civilization. Prices are up, the planet is on fire, and we’re one bad TikTok trend away from a full-scale societal meltdown. But hey, at least we can all agree on one thing that will absolutely, positively, and without a shadow of a doubt get people screaming into the void: a man with good bone structure got a magazine cover.
That’s right, you absolute pinecones. *People* magazine dropped the nuclear warhead of vapid celebrity news this week, officially anointing Patrick Dempsey as the “Sexiest Man Alive” for 2023. And before you roll your eyes so hard you sprain something, let me just say: this is the most controversial non-controversy since we all argued about whether a dress was blue or gold. The internet, in its infinite wisdom, has decided that this is the hill we are going to die on.
Let’s unpack this dumpster fire of a hot take.
First off, the man himself. Patrick Dempsey. “McDreamy.” The guy who made surgical scrubs look like high fashion and whose hair had a higher approval rating than most US presidents. He’s 57. He looks like he was sculpted by the gods and then left in a tanning bed for a gentle, benevolent aging process. He’s not a “daddy” in the weird, creepy way the internet uses that term; he’s a “Daddy” in the way that implies he has a 401k, knows how to fix a leaky faucet, and would probably offer you a sensible, non-creepy ride home from the airport. He’s the human equivalent of a warm fireplace and a well-stocked liquor cabinet.
But here’s where the AITA energy kicks in. The announcement dropped, and the collective hive mind of social media immediately split into two warring factions: Team “About Damn Time” and Team “Who Is This Boomer And Why Is He On My Feed?”
The “About Damn Time” crew is mostly composed of elder Millennials and Gen Xers who remember watching *Can’t Buy Me Love* on a VHS tape. They are currently wielding their Stanley cups like swords, shouting, “FINALLY! A man with chest hair! A man with wrinkles! A man who looks like he’s actually been alive and not just rendered by an AI that’s only seen photos of Timothée Chalamet!” They argue that Dempsey represents a return to classic, “grown-ass man” sexiness. He’s not a twink. He’s not a superhero in spandex. He’s a guy who probably smells like cedar and expensive cologne and has a garage full of race cars. He’s aspirational but not intimidating.
Then you have the other side. The people who saw the cover and immediately typed, “Who?” into Google, followed by a flurry of angry tweets. These are the Zoomers. The TikTok generation. The people who think “sexy” is defined by a 22-year-old with a skincare routine that costs more than my rent and a jawline that could cut glass. To them, Patrick Dempsey is a relic. A fossil. A man who was on a show that ended before they were born. They wanted Pedro Pascal (who is also in his 50s, but somehow gets a pass because he’s the internet’s “cool dad”). They wanted Harry Styles (who looks like a confused art school student). They wanted literally anyone else.
And this is where the sarcasm comes in, because the internet’s reaction was, predictably, unhinged.
One Reddit thread I saw had a user posting, “Cool, another white guy in his 50s. Groundbreaking. I’m so shocked. I just fell to my knees in a Target.” Which, fair. The “Sexiest Man Alive” list is about as diverse as a country club golf tournament. But that’s not really the point here, is it? The point is that the internet can’t just accept a harmless piece of fluff. We have to turn it into a referendum on age, gender, beauty standards, and the impending heat death of the universe.
Another user, clearly a member of the Dempsey resistance, wrote, “He’s a nice guy and all, but ‘sexiest man alive’? He looks like a real estate agent who’s about to show me a fixer-upper in a gentrifying neighborhood.” Ouch. That’s a specific brand of burn. I can’t argue with it, though. There is a certain “I have a mortgage and I’m slightly disappointed in my choices” energy to his face. But maybe that’s the appeal? He looks like he’s been through some stuff. He looks like he’s seen a spreadsheet. He looks like he could negotiate a better car warranty for you. That’s sexy, people!
The dark humor of the whole situation is that we’re arguing about *People* magazine. *People*. The same magazine that brings us “Heroes Among Us” and articles about puppies. It’s the softest, most inoffensive media outlet on the planet. And we’re treating it like it’s a Supreme Court nomination. The sheer lack of self-awareness is breathtaking.
Let’s be real for a second. Does anyone actually care? No. It’s a manufactured distraction. It’s the internet’s version of a fidget spinner. We’re all so stressed out about real things—the economy, the climate, the fact that we can’t afford a house—that we need to find a tiny, meaningless thing to yell about. So we yell about Patrick Dempsey. We yell about whether his bone structure is “objectively” the best. We yell about how he’s “overrated” or “underrated.” We yell because yelling is the only thing we know how to do.
And honestly? I’m here for it.
Final Thoughts
After decades in the Hollywood machine, Patrick Dempsey’s late-career pivot from romantic lead to character-driven depth feels less like a rebrand and more like a long-overdue homecoming. His return to serious racing and the genuine, unguarded joy he finds away from the set reminds us that the most compelling actors are often the ones who refuse to let the industry fully define them. Ultimately, Dempsey proves that true longevity isn’t about clinging to a former glory, but about having the courage to pursue something real—even if it means leaving the script behind.