What No One's Saying About Men.
The crucial aspect of male identity everyone is ignoring.
What was once a subterranean movement is now unmissable.
As women found liberation through eschewing traditional gender roles, men are now reciprocating the revolution.
Conservative women are flummoxed that men refuse to marry; liberal women wonder why men refuse to date; conservatives claim men are choosing “gooning” and gaming over protecting and providing; liberals claim men have lost their way now that patriarchal norms are disrupted.
None of the commentariat considers that what’s popularly portrayed as male dysfunction might in truth be male disenchantment—an emotional response to a society perceived as beyond saving. Even further beyond their ken is the notion of male discernment—a rational rebellion against a society that’s made no secret of its contempt for them and their needs.
Were anyone truly interested in untangling the “mystery” of modern male nihilism, they’d find that the subject has been explored in-depth for decades:
Warren Farrell (ex-president of the National Organization for Women) published “The Myth of Male Power” in 1993.
Feminist Christina Hoff-Sommers published “The War Against Boys” in 2001.
Dr. Helen Smith published “Men on Strike” in 2013.
Cassie Jaye chronicled her abandonment of feminist presumptions in her 2016 documentary The Red Pill.
Boldest of all is Norah Vincent, who employed weight training, a vocal coach, a psychologist, and costume and makeup professionals to transform herself into “Ned.” Over 18 months “Ned” joined a men’s bowling team, took a high-octane sales job, went on dates with multiple women, visited strip clubs, infiltrated a monastery, and joined a men’s therapy group.
Chronicling her experience in “Self-Made Man” (2006), Vincent—a lesbian and radical feminist—began her experiment clinging to “Power and Patriarchy” presumptions which have become common in popular discourse. She ended her experiment markedly changed, concluding that “men are suffering” and that women have “no clue” what they’re experiencing.
But women aren’t the only party guilty of apathy and ignorance regarding the life of modern man. The disease is endemic to all of society.
From boyhood, men are scapegoated for a range of global, political, social and interpersonal ills; they’re told by women that they’re no longer needed; told by educators that they’re the problem; told by popular entertainment that they’re toxic; told by employers they won’t be promoted (if they’re even hired) for the sake of “equity”; told by liberals to open up and act like women; told by conservatives to shut up and act like “real men.”
The tellers are then confused and horrified by the popularity and influence of the “Manosphere,” the much-maligned realm where men across nations and generations air grievances and express themselves openly and honestly. But here, too, in this unabashedly pro-masculine space, the concept of male identity is tragically shallow.
To the sexual right-wing the primary prescription for male happiness is simple: make money, build muscle, get pussy. It is as one-dimensional a view of manhood as any proposed by “smash the patriarchy” progressives or “protect and provide” traditionalists. It’s a cynical, hedonistic materialism dressed up as empowerment—a masculine mirror to the feminist narratives they deplore, which frame female empowerment in terms of status elevation and sexual license.
No assessment of modern man seems ready to view him as an intelligent being, blessed with depth and dimension. There’s a correspondent collective neglect of his boundless imagination and vivid inner life. Subsequently none of the intelligentsia/influencer ilk concerned with the crisis of modern man has highlighted—or even acknowledged—what is far and away the most awe-inspiring aspect about him:
He is overwhelmingly responsible for the most groundbreaking, beautiful and transcendent art that humanity has ever known.
Modern man isn’t broken. His self-concept is compromised.
His artistic genius is downplayed by liberals, derided by progressives, dismissed by conservatives, and mocked by “red pillers.”
It occurs to none of them that men seeking purpose and identity might be refreshed and renewed if reminded of their creative capacity: reminded that their forebears crafted compositions of staggering beauty, and boldly explored life’s big questions via timeless drama and literature. It never dawns on them to highlight that the genius of a Mozart or a Michael Jackson was so great that it will not only outlive those men, but the civilizations in which they were born.
Perhaps men should be reminded that it was one of their own who wrote The Iliad and The Odyssey and The Divine Comedy and Hamlet; that it was he who created Swan Lake and War and Peace; that men from Cervantes to Joyce to Hemingway revolutionized fiction-writing; that men from Carvaggio to Picasso revolutionized painting; that men like Nijinsky and Baryshnikov revolutionized dance.
Perhaps men should embrace that their forebears, from Sophocles to Shakespeare to Chekhov, innovated and transformed dramatic art; that men from Mayer to Zucker to Disney and Diller made Hollywood an entertainment superpower; that men from Rodgers and Hammerstein to Sondheim and Fosse elevated the Broadway musical into high art; that men like Joplin and Ellington and Gordy permanently transformed America’s musical identity.
If modern civilization has forbidden male chauvinism, surely an exception is warranted when highlighting the vast, varied and endlessly enriching contribution of male artists throughout human history.
Were such a taboo broken, it would vaporize any argument about male superfluity. Any notion of man’s emotional unintelligence or intellectual dullness would wither in the shadow of multiple millennia of contrary evidence. And a society which remembers to value the splendor of male artistry might inspire a phenomena sorely needed in an era of brain rot and crude social discourse:
The return of the Renaissance Man.
As comedian Chris Rock accurately observed, “only women, children and dogs are loved unconditionally. A man is only loved under the condition that he provides something.”
Men are frequently lectured to about what a “Real Man” is; constantly judged according to whether they are “High Value” or not. No matter which term is used, both center around the question of what use a man is. This is a healthy metric for a man to measure himself by; none are treated with more disdain than useless men—except for artists.
Our view of ourselves as an educated and advanced civilization is falsified by our inability to embrace the value of art and culture. Civilizations past were more barbarous and less technologically advanced than ours, yet produced aural, visual and literary wonders that have provided spiritual and psychological succor for civilizations they could never have known would exist. Men were the primary creators of these wonders.
Yet in a modern and progressive era christened “The Information Age,” with centuries of advancements at our backs—our conception of the male animal has strangely regressed: he is “High Value” only if he makes $100K a year and benches 225 lbs; he’s “modern” only if he renders himself helplessly malleable to woman; he’s a “Real Man” only if he works himself into an early grave on behalf of his family. None of these traits or achievements are negatives in and of themselves, except that they are needlessly reductive.
Would not a more “Progressive” vision of modern man embrace male cultural contributions, instead of deride them? Were Melville, Van Gogh, Schubert, or Poe “Low Value” because they died penniless? Was Ernest Hemingway—who saw three wars up close, and whose body bore scars and fractures from multiple scrapes with death—not a “Real Man” because he chose the life of a writer?
In an era where the social engineering of the past 60 years is fast losing its luster, and as the Baby Boomers who enforced said paradigm begin to pass on, we would do well to redefine our vision of man. As long as his only options are to be portrayed as an obstacle to progress, or as a plow horse, or as a meat-headed libertine—he will continue to wander and withdraw.
Better to stoke within him burning passion, electrifying wit and vivid imagination, so that such gifts can be channeled into courageous creative endeavors that might endure long after he is gone.
For boys and men seeking meaning, take this to heart and never let it go:
Real Men Make Art.
CD
Stirring words and very true. Thank you for this essay.
Spot on analysis. Thanks