“You’ll be a man, my son” — If, Rudyard Kipling

In 1797, Thomas Gisborne, a priest and poet, published a misguided book titled An Enquiry into the Duties of the Female Sex, arguing that women were divinely intended to be subservient to men. This calls for a counter-discussion.

We currently find ourselves in a pivotal moment in global history, marked by a pandemic, a climate emergency, numerous international conflicts, and a deteriorating public sphere that caters primarily to the elite. These interconnected challenges significantly impact our everyday lives. While many of these issues are being addressed, one particular "crisis" has been appropriated by a segment of the political spectrum: the discourse surrounding ‘Masculinity’.

The nature of this so-called ‘crisis’ is hotly contested (hence the quotation marks) as some argue that masculinity is under siege and that men are being vilified for simply existing. Others counter that this represents a rectification of historical inequities where men have dominated decision-making and have often violently oppressed women. Regardless of which perspective you subscribe to, there is an undeniable issue at hand.

In the UK and USA, male suicide rates have risen steadily, becoming the leading cause of death for men under 45 in the UK. Moreover, domestic violence surged by 8% in the USA during the pandemic, with men accounting for 80% of all arrests. Beyond these statistics lies a more abstract concern: the rise of social media influencers who openly embrace misogyny or lend credence to misogynistic ideologies, alongside the vitriolic and violent rhetoric directed at women online. Proponents of this view claim that men have “lost their way,” leading to a perceived lack of “real men” in society, which they argue constitutes the crisis. However, when you ask these individuals to define what a “real man” is, responses vary widely.

To me, as a man, the 'Crisis of Masculinity' and the broader male ‘crisis’ are distinct; the issues of male suicide and mental health stem from a multitude of societal problems—economic strife, climate change, and ingrained patriarchal pressures—while the ‘Crisis of Masculinity’ revolves around a lack of clear definition.

Historically, men's roles have been dominant. Emperors, pharaohs, rulers, and politicians have predominantly been male, transcending racial boundaries; nonetheless, white men have been the most overrepresented group. Only in the last century and a half has this landscape begun to shift, and it appears that a subset of men is particularly incensed by this change. This anger arises not from a loss of power—men still predominantly occupy the highest-paying and most influential positions—but from the challenge to self-identity posed by the rise of female empowerment.

Men have seldom had to define themselves as the world has revolved around them. They have historically shaped their identities based on how the world acquiesced to their desires. Now, as societal dynamics shift, some commentators react with alarming hostility. As feminism gains traction, a counter-movement known as 'meninism' has emerged, which claims to resist an imagined female supremacy. This dialogue often descends into reductive and toxic exchanges online, which have regrettably seeped into mainstream discussions. The primary targets of this rhetoric remain women, but it also highlights why the conversation has recently turned toward the transgender community.

The existence of transgender individuals challenges traditional notions of masculinity and the patriarchy. If gender can be modified or questioned, it undermines centuries of white male dominance. Similar to how the anti-racism movement interrogates the very essence of race, the discourse surrounding transgender identities has drawn in even moderate voices, who now demand legislative clarity on what defines a man or woman. Yet, this leads to an important question: what does it mean to be a man?

Masculinity is often vaguely defined as traits typically associated with men, yet this description overlooks the origins of these learned behaviors. Historical research shows that definitions of ‘manliness’ have shifted, such as the color association between boys and girls, which was inverted in the Victorian era. The ideals that today’s 'meninists' cling to, while arguably rooted in antiquity, are equally mutable and often irrelevant in the modern context. Attributes like physical strength, dominance, emotional suppression, and solitude are frequently emphasized in advertisements for products like cologne and trucks. Ironically, these traits can also apply to women, yet they have been inextricably linked to male identity without a sound rationale.

Despite the fervent desires of some traditionalists, men experience a full range of human emotions; we all seek companionship, face physical challenges, and exhibit submissiveness in various contexts. These aspects of humanity have not changed over the past century; rather, they have always existed. One could argue that the historical prominence of men may stem from their inability to forge emotional connections, leading to violent and repressive behaviors.

Clearly, many men struggle to define their identities outside the rigid historical and societal frameworks dictating what it means to be a man, resulting in the perception of masculinity as being in ‘crisis’. I, too, have felt this societal pressure.

My father epitomized what contemporary 'meninists' might consider the ideal man. He commanded attention, was the family's primary provider, and was skilled in multiple martial arts. He passed away in 2005 as the Chairman of the UK Tai Chi and Chi Gung Forum for Health and Special Needs and was the only NHS-certified Tai Chi instructor. He had a hand in establishing Rolling Stone magazine in the UK during the 70s, and as a musician, he recorded at Abbey Road. He exuded charisma and confidence, becoming the favorite of many. However, he also held deeply flawed views, exhibiting racist, sexist, and homophobic tendencies. He cheated on my mother, leading to their separation when I was 17. He was not without imperfections—he was human.

I still cherish and admire my father nearly two decades after his passing, but he was a product of his era. Today, he would be labeled a 'Boomer' with opinions reflective of that generation. This presents a dilemma. For all the 'meninists' who wish for men to emulate my father—commanding, respected, and strong—they must recognize that this archetype no longer holds relevance. The perception of masculinity tied to his character is obsolete.

Today's most admired men do not display traditional masculine traits. Where figures like Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sylvester Stallone, or John Wayne once represented the pinnacle of manhood, contemporary icons like Harry Styles, Pedro Pascal, and Timothy Chalamet have taken their place. Ironically, those who strive to embody the attributes of the former trio often appear the least masculine themselves. Their expressions of masculinity are superficial, rooted in clichés and performative behaviors. Alarmingly, even Schwarzenegger advocates for sensitivity and inclusivity—values that many of his admirers now reject.

This confusion has left male identity in flux. The divide seems to crystallize into two opposing camps: those advocating for the stoic, emotionally distant, and dominant figure of traditional masculinity, and those who champion a more sensitive, collaborative, and emotionally aware male. The former appears to gain traction, especially among younger men drawn to a more misogynistic narrative. Meanwhile, those who genuinely care about the well-being of these young men aim to divert them from this self-destructive path, yet in doing so, the plight of women facing increasing violence and the struggles of men grappling with mental health challenges are often overlooked. This is the true crisis: as men navigate their identities, many are left in despair, leading to tragic outcomes.

I do not fit the mold of traditional masculinity. I don't engage in extreme physical feats, nor do I pursue a lavish lifestyle. I lack the authoritative presence that historically defined masculinity. Yet, all of this rings true for many men who claim to embody the ideal.

I have my flaws and have struggled with biases myself. Nevertheless, I am committed to growth—a journey that extends beyond the gym or consuming media like The Sopranos. I am in a stable, fulfilling relationship, maintain healthy connections with my family, and have friends of all genders. I express my emotions openly, even through tears, and I don’t particularly enjoy sports. These traits are often dismissed as unmasculine, yet I share commonalities with many men in cultures such as the UK and the USA. For instance, I also have a close circle of male friends and engage in music and film as passions.

In summary, I am neither flawless nor the epitome of masculinity. However, I am relatively well-adjusted and not burdened by outdated masculine expectations. I find strength in embracing both traditionally masculine and feminine aspects of my identity without experiencing a crisis. I recognize the challenges men face, having experienced them myself, and the solution does not lie in doubling down on harmful stereotypes of masculinity.

In the upcoming articles, I will explore avenues to help shape a more inclusive understanding of masculine identity for those feeling adrift in a landscape that often offers fractured solutions. These essays aim to address men—especially those who may have sought guidance elsewhere without finding solace. My intent is not to provide easy answers or quick fixes. Rather than attributing blame to women for the issues men face today, I seek to navigate beyond the binary framework of gender, accommodating all expressions of masculinity—from the most traditional to the most progressive, including those like myself who reside in between. I have committed myself to listening, and I genuinely hope we can collaboratively find a way forward.

All men share a duty to improve themselves, but that journey does not have to be undertaken in isolation.