Sabrina Carpenter and How to be “Man’s Best Friend” 

Sabrina Carpenter released her seventh studio album, Man’s Best Friend, which quickly became her most controversial work to date. The album cover features her posed on all fours in front of a man that’s gripping a fistful of her hair.  

Fans expected the album to be subversive and satirical, but it disappointingly comes across as literal. The album lacks necessary depth, and comes across as a whimsical embrace of low self-respect and male incompetence.

At first glance, the project seemed to be centered on women being “dogged” by men, as suggested by its title and the cover. Before the full release, it was unclear whether the album would critique modern dating dynamics or play into them.

Fans took to social media to express their concerns about the cover, especially in a political climate where women’s rights face renewed threats.

“This isn’t satire, this is not empowering to women. You’ve missed the mark by so much hun,” one user commented on the Instagram album cover release.

She responded to what she viewed as unprecedented controversy in an interview with Gayle King.

“What was your reaction to their reaction?” King asked.

“Y’all need to get out more,” Carpenter responded.

She framed the backlash as a misunderstanding of her music, storytelling and personal journey — rooted, she said, in conservatism. 

Dislike for the album cover is not necessarily centered on its sexual nature, but rather her romanticization of a time period where women’s rights were suppressed in a current social atmosphere that is attempting to revive that era.

In another interview with Zane Lowe and Apple Music, she elaborates further on the matter.

“Putting out something without having the context is always tricky,” she said.

She then provides the context of her interpretation of the image in relation to the work and frames it as a tool for juxtaposition.

“The whole purpose of the photo was supposed to be cheeky and airy and playful…I’m clearly in control, even though I’m on all fours.”

On Instagram, Carpenter reflected on the project with pride.

“It’s a real party for heartbreak, a celebration of disappointment! It’s laughing at yourself and your poor choices as everything is falling apart,” she captioned.

Despite her explanation of the piece across interviews and social media captions, it is the need to justify herself that defers the impact of the album. Without her interviews and commentary, the album’s message remains uncertain.

Left to stand alone, the album and visuals convey a tone far different from what Carpenter insists.

Strong albums speak for themselves — context should refine the message, not define it.

Although she wants to box and sell it as a lighthearted, comical and therapeutic way of coping with unfortunate dating experiences and bad decisions, it unveils itself as complacency with toxic relationship patterns and dumbifying or sexualizing herself for the sake of her partner and his ego.

“Can everyone who said it was going to be some subversive, satirical, empowering take on how men treat women like dogs be quiet now,” someone commented on the Instagram announcement of the album. “Not a single song on the album comes close to justifying this cover.”

Instead of viewing her lyrics as an obvious over exaggeration that curates a satirical tone, her songs feel laced with underlying truth. The album seems less about humorously capturing dating frustrations and more about watering down harmful patterns that excuse poor male behavior.

Ironically, for an album that aims to critique men, it’s awfully centered around them.

The songs that shine the most on the album are the ones that actively critique men in a stylistically comical and witty way. Songs like “Manchild” openly expose men for their tendency to practice incompetence and manipulate women.

“Why so sexy if so dumb? And how survive the Earth so long? If I’m not there, it won’t get done, I choose to blame your mom,” she sings in “Manchild.”

She humorously uses fewer words to imitate a lack of evolution and compares a manchild’s intelligence to a caveman, supporting her point that modern-day men use incompetence as a tool so their partners take care of their inconveniences for them. However, blaming another woman for a man’s behavior in a project that’s supposed to hold men accountable is a counterintuitive lyric choice.

“Manchild” is the opening song of the album. It immediately sets the tone and encompasses the conflicting nature of the project just within those few lines. While she acknowledges a manipulative tactic men use, she roots her annoyance in another woman rather than the man himself, then fails to remove herself from this harmful dynamic.

The order of the album mimics a similar back-and-forth feeling that leaves an unsolidified impression. In “Never Getting Laid,” she discusses how she’s coping with being cheated on, resentment for men, and abstinence. Yet, “When Did You Get Hot?” immediately contradicts her prior anger directed at men and contains raunchy lyrics obsessing over a new man in her life. 

A clearer narrative might have traced growth and independence, rather than centering men throughout. Rather, the album falls short of its full potential and comes across as playfully perpetuating harmful modern dating dynamics.

While it’s easy to get swept up in the cheeky lyrics, dreamy vocals and bubbly instrumentals, there is a disappointing lack of a centralized message throughout the album that could have been executed to a better standard through the visuals or through the order of songs to tell the story she intended to.

Intentional or not, the takeaway is that “Man’s Best Friend” is a complacent woman.

 Copy edited by D’Nyah Jefferson – Philmore