There has been a resurgence in debate over the last few years about the labels of “toxic masculinity,” “healthy masculinity,” or “positive masculinity.” But what makes this debate different from the discussions in earlier decades is that people can now see tangible outcomes of applying those labels.
Equimundo’s State of American Men reports have found alarmingly high rates of distress among men. Over 44% of men surveyed in the 2023 report reported suicidal thoughts, with younger men showing the highest levels of depressive symptoms, a statistic that demands serious attention. Colleges enroll more young women than men, and in many places, young men lag in degree completion and employment trends.
That’s what got Richard V. Reeves talking about this issue in a big way. Reeves, a British-born scholar and the bestselling author of Of Boys and Men, says that this isn’t just a fad or a culture war talk but a measurable social problem. In 2023, he founded the American Institute for Boys and Men to back up his claims with data and highlight the issue of young men falling behind on several fronts like mental health, skills, employment, and fatherhood.
As a means to close these gaps in education, Reeves urges openness, connection, better social support, and asks young men to behave in ways that might seem obvious to any normal person. He asks young men to be kind, take risks, be willing to face rejections, not be afraid of showing emotions, take care of their own mental health and not be afraid of discussing it.
The fact that this needs to be laid out for young people today is not alarming, given the cesspool that social media exposes them to at an early age. There has been a surge in misogynistic influencers in building this manosphere which young men rely on to get advice on dating, social behavior, relationships and fitness. These influencers like Andrew Tate, Sneako or the FreshandFit duo, portray feminism as dangerous and women who hold these ideals as toxic and manipulative.
Insecurities among young men makes them increasingly susceptible to this kind of radicalization and misogyny. The International Men and Gender Equality Survey (IMAGES), a massive multi-country study, shows that men’s attitudes and behaviors around violence and gender norms are major drivers of gender inequality. And Reeves is not the only one to bring attention to these issues.
Scott Galloway’s latest book, Notes on Being a Man, also talks about the need for young men to have practical resilience and financial security. He urges men to reject the worn-out stereotypes that box them in and to embrace gender equality instead of seeing it as a threat.
But there are broader societal risks to the framing of “men in crisis.” Some critics say it distracts from structural inequalities that hurt other genders, or that it can be a front for reactionary politics. The surge of the Men’s Rights Movement (MRA) in the 2010s was, in fact, based on posing an opposing front to feminism. Among demands for changes in family law for fairer terms for men in matters of child custody and alimony, the movement was dominated by the rhetoric of victimization of men at the hands of feminists. Offline activism for gathering support for this rhetoric found a new life in a growing digital network in the 2010s and through the voices of prolific influencers like Jordan Peterson. But then the language about “helping men” started being used as cover for rolling back women’s rights and gains. Calls for family law reforms which were pro-father resulted in undermining child support laws and domestic violence rights.
These talks about “men’s suffering” are often designed to shift attention away from gender equality concerns and demand that policies be re-designed to favor men. What the men’s rights activists refuse to understand is that you can care about fathers’ involvement in childcare, young men dropping out of colleges and also care about closing the gender pay gap. These aims aren’t mutually exclusive, and may even be mutually beneficial for both men and women.
But instead of leading to honest conversations about what men are going through or talking about policies which need to be formulated, the “men in crisis” issue has been used by influencers looking to post clickbait content. Social media has become this nonstop reel of male toughness, with guys like David Goggins and Ant Middleton posting clips about “alpha energy.” The algorithm loves it because outrage and extreme content is what keeps people watching. The more extreme the posts, the more attention they pull. And men’s rights activists don’t seem to mind because it deflects attention from gender equality issues.
Cable news isn’t that innocent, either. They push stories that pit men against women and left against right. A panel of men on a news show deciding whether women should be “allowed” to wear leggings is one such example. Another is a whole television series on “men in crisis” during Women’s History Month. It’s a drama that sells, so it keeps looping. Then politicians see all this noise online and assume that’s what people care about, and they start using these ideas to design their campaigns and mandates. Before you know it, you’ve got a toxic feedback loop where the media feeds toxic masculinity, the audience rewards it with clicks, and leaders further use it to score points with their voter base.
Maybe the real rebellion now is just not taking the bait. Maybe it’s time to shift our attention and find some of the answers in the stories that have stood the test of time. The oldest tales, from Gilgamesh to the Mahabharata to Greek tragedies to folktales read during bedtime, are about the evolution of masculinity through lessons in both kindness and bravery. They’re stories of courage and failing, of mercy and greed, of the tug of war between the good and bad inside a person. Maybe that’s why the mythopoets went looking for archetypes because people keep telling the same narrative, hoping to find a more accessible pattern that reaches across to each generation.
These older stories answer with archetypes of heroism that include mercy and community, not just bravado. Some of those stories might sound quaint, but they survive because they talk about the best of us. Those who show up, survive hardships, who can soften up when needed, who protect without being dominating. If we want healthier forms of masculinity, we need to do better than talk about “being stronger.” We need to normalize the social norms that allow men to break free of stoicism by building more safe spaces to share their fears, their grief. Because in all those stories being a “hero” is not just about being brave, it is about being a person who evolves. A person who learns to balance courage with compassion and strength with mercy.