Last week’s essay, “Is fiction too female-coded,” struck a nerve. Thought I’d follow up with commentary on a related topic: masculinity.
Since reading Richard Reeves’ book Of Boys and Men, I’ve been exploring masculinity and men’s issues more deeply — not just as societal topics but as a way to navigate my own internal conflicts. To be honest, I’m getting tired of it. There’s something unmasculine about talking about masculinity too much, yet here I am. Here we all are. Maybe it’s time to shut up about it, or at least reconsider how we talk about it.
Every other day, the media cranks out articles dissecting masculinity in the context of the election. Today’s example is from NBC News, claiming Trump and Harris voters are battling over what masculinity looks like in 2024. Meanwhile, the Lincoln Project put out an ad featuring a deep, manly voice urging, “It’s time to be a man and vote for a woman.”
It’s worth asking, Does masculinity even matter? Why is it such a hot-button issue right now?
Of course it matters. But I also think we’re overemphasizing it. We may be focusing on the wrong gender, in fact. Think about it. We have a woman knocking on the door of the Presidency in an election where women’s rights are front and center. Why are we fixating so much on masculinity? I get that Trump, Walz, and Emhoff have sparked conversations about masculinity in their own ways and that some see this election as a gender war. But it feels like all sides are over-focusing on masculinity to the point of losing perspective — myself included.
For much of the last decade, I’ve felt caught between two warring camps in the masculinity discourse.
On one side are the Masculinists. They see masculinity as the backbone of civilization, under siege by the feminization of education, work, and culture. To them, traditional male virtues like strength, honor, and responsibility are being dismantled; boys and men are struggling amid challenging cultural and economic trends; and masculinity needs to be restored and revitalized. But Masculinism has a dark side — it can morph into rigid, surface-level, one-size-fits-all conceptions of masculinity. What begins as a defense of masculinity can turn into a backlash against those who don’t conform. It also can descend into performative obsessions with testosterone levels, squat records, and shirtless selfies.
On the other side are the Liberationists. They see masculinity as a relic — at best outdated, at worst dangerous. For them, dismantling traditional gender roles is key to greater freedom and equality. “Let people be who they are” is their mantra, and they push to transcend or even erase masculinity altogether. But this approach has its own pitfalls. By focusing solely on deconstruction, Liberationists often dismiss the positive aspects of masculinity — like protection, task-orientation, and resilience. Taken to extremes, it can leave boys and men confused, push society toward 50+ gender options, and become its own force of oppression by pathologizing male behavior.
Over the years, I’ve leaned toward the Masculinist side on cultural issues while favoring the Liberationist approach on legal equality. I’ve pushed back against the excesses of gender ideology while celebrating the Supreme Court’s Obergefell decision legalizing gay marriage. My essay last week asking if fiction is too female-coded can be seen as grappling with these issues.
Recently, the conversation around masculinity has taken on a surreal tone. Some Masculinists have become a parody of themselves, latching onto cringe influencers like Andrew Tate and Jordan Peterson, who peddle hyper-masculinity as some kind of cure-all. Meanwhile, Liberationists have evolved from champions of inclusion into ideological enforcers who treat any acknowledgment of traditional gender roles as betrayal. Ask a Liberationist to define “boy” and watch them squirm.
Politically, the GOP has been consumed by a coarse, dumbed-down version of Masculinism. This was the context of JD Vance’s snide cat-lady commentary. Yet, in 2016, Trump was the most gay-friendly Republican nominee ever, and I initially perceived his combative style as a reassertion of masculinity in politics. But at some point along the way, I began to see Trump’s swagger as a disguise concealing outright narcissism, boorishness, and corruption.
Meanwhile, the Democrats have shifted from Hillary Clinton’s man-hating Liberationist vibes to a divergent approach. Joe Biden made it ok to be a straight white male Democrat again. And with the Harris-Walz campaign, we see an open embrace of masculinity with Tim Walz, the sturdy Midwestern dad, and Doug Emhoff, the supportive husband. To some, it feels like Democrats are pushing a sanitized, female-approved “good guy masculinity” that boxes men into a neat Democratic stereotype. And despite the recent change of tone, the progressive left is still caught up in Liberationist thinking, calling pregnant women “birthing people” and seeking to eliminate any age limits for youth trans surgeries.
Both sides need to touch grass. And maybe we all need to stop blowing masculinity out of proportion as a topic. Isn’t it strange that talking heads never analyze Harris’s femininity in the same way they do Walz’s masculinity? How much of the masculinity signaling on both sides is a just a ploy for votes?
Yes, masculinity matters. Masculinity embodies qualities like strength, courage, and responsibility that are essential for personal development, social cohesion, and civilizational advancement. It provides balance and purpose, contributing positively to families, communities, and society as a whole.
Masculinity is a dynamic force that, when guided by self-awareness and respect, can contribute greatly to the world. This isn’t about tearing down manhood or propping up outdated norms. It’s about understanding that masculine and feminine energies are complementary, not opposing forces. Both have shadow sides, too. Toxic masculinity is real and so is toxic femininity — so why do we discuss one but not the other?
We shouldn’t dismantle masculinity or reject it as inherently problematic. We should encourage and nurture it, just as we should femininity. And I think we can balance normative masculinity with tolerance for those who don’t fit the mold. The straight guy who likes poetry, the effeminate gay, and the gender-fluid person all deserve cultural space and protection. My family does, too.
This past week I spoke with Ken Mossman, a professional coach and leadership trainer who runs a men’s program called Integrated Adult Man (IAM). Ken is in his 60s, straight, married, and classically masculine in an unaffected, neighborly, hiker-in-the-Adirondacks way. At one point during the call, I asked Ken how he defines masculinity.
Ken paused and took a breath. “What’s important is that men become integrated and conscious adults. How masculinity fits into that is up to them.”
At first, I was taken aback. Here was a guy running a men’s program who balked at defining masculinity. It didn’t seem to matter to him, at least not individually. But as we spoke further, I came to understand that Ken was not deconstructing masculinity. He was putting it in context of what matters at the individual level: becoming conscious and integrated men.
I paused for a few breaths to wrap my head around what he was saying. “Makes sense,” I eventually replied.
Masculinity exists in a context, as Harris might say. It exists in relation. Perhaps we should talk more about how to integrate all of our parts, regardless of which candidate we support.
Links to check out:
Ken Mossman’s website
Of Boys and Men by Richard Reeves (highly recommend the book)
My essays on related topics:
Others to check out:
Aaron M. Renn for smart conservative views on masculinity
Jessica Valenti for intelligent feminist commentary from the left
Provocative essay by Sam Kahn, “The 2024 election is a gender war”
I enjoyed this piece by Colin Mortemore “You’re definitely not straight”
The problem with associating virtues with either masculinity or femininity it is so easy to slip into defining them as opposites. If masculinity is brave, femininity becomes cowardly. If femininity is empathetic, then masculinity is unfeeling.
Why gender the virtues? What’s the point? What do we gain? Don’t we want everyone to be disciplined and integrated and intuitive and rational and determined and caring? Do we care if someone’s strengths and weaknesses match their gender stereotype? Why would we?
I think we should care about men, not masculinity.
Something about Walz gives me pause. As a NeverTrump libertarian-conservative, I was ready to vote for Harris until she picked Walz for veep. I’ll probably still vote for her, but Walz somehow feels condescending and insulting—almost like a male version of Sarah Palin, a bald faced attempt to appeal to a demographic. Something about him rubs me the wrong way.