Of all the responsibilities I carry, raising my son to be kind and empathetic is the largest.
Sexism is a social illness that has hurt us all for quite literally thousands of years. But in this current day and age, the situation is reaching a fever pitch, and among my greatest fears is the idea of my child – who currently cannot bring himself to kill spotted lanternflies despite mandates to do so, who loves the color pink, and dancing, and singing, who fawns over puppies – becoming a spreader of that illness.
Yet we do find our men in a documented crisis of identity and loneliness, and they are lashing out in response. Technological advancements have exacerbated the problem of isolation, while also pointing men toward a scapegoat for their growing frustrations around their changing place in a changing world: Women. The now-ubiquitous internet is chock full of chat boards, websites and YouTube channels run by misogynist influencers like Andrew Tate and Nick Fuentes.
Combined, they create the “manosphere,” which stokes a culture of anger and entitlement among so-called involuntarily celibate men – “incels” for short – by telling them, over and over again, that their role in our society is shrinking because women exist, and we are growing increasingly ungovernable. There are real-world impacts.
The men who now hold the most power are making matters worse, still – using said power to exclude, to exploit, to harm and even to kill, setting a negative example while at the same time furthering damaging ideas about masculinity from their lofty pulpits. They are hawkish, full of bravado, and eschew vulnerability fully. The ripple effects of such behavior and speech could be seen, as one example, in the wake of President Donald Trump’s 2024 reelection, when the online harassment of women – including threats of rape – ran rampant in celebration of his win.
All of this trickles down to influence how future generations perceive the world – and themselves. Research shows that notable portions of Millennial, Gen Z and Gen Alpha boys and men believe being unemotional is laudable, and that being dominant is important. A third of Gen Z men believe women should be obedient to their husbands. It goes on from there.
Admittedly, some men do much of the work of keeping one another trapped inside of this anger, and the ideology that fuels it. They mock each other for vulnerability, and defend each other for their barbarism. They are powder kegs of their own making. And those most harmed by the blasts upon detonation – women – are increasingly avoiding relationships with men altogether. Rather than change, men grow angrier and more resentful, still.
But to view it all from the perspective of younger men (go with me here)… Why should boys feel deeply and care overtly when they see hyper-masculine wrong-doers winning and thriving? Why should boys allow themselves to soften and emote when they’re shown that they will be punished for doing so – but rewarded for avoiding all of that? Why should boys seek out self-improvement when the men with the mic are telling them the problem lies elsewhere?
How can my son stay on the path to kindness in such a world?
The Paradox That’s Hurting Us All
One answer, to start, is for caregivers like myself to understand the problem in greater detail.
“Toxic masculinity” (sometimes referred to as “regressive masculinity”) is defined as the toughness, power-grabbing and anti-femininity that men are conditioned to embrace and embody in order to be considered men – a confining set of traits around how a person dresses and grooms themselves, how they talk, how they act, what they enjoy, what they buy (or refuse to buy) and more.
Race, class and sexual orientation provably influence one’s perception of themselves, the world and their place in it, and men are not exempt from this – but a large portion of what is socially considered to be “masculine” supersedes membership to those communities. And despite the emphasis on strength as a masculine trait, it’s a fragile construct. Those who benefit from its adherence doggedly uphold it through their messaging (and by quite literally selling it, through “manly” alternatives to everything from breakfast cereal to bathroom wipes).
Lisa Wade, an author and associate professor in Tulane University’s sociology department, explained that the feminist movement of the 1960s and 1970s made great strides in gaining access for women to male-dominated spaces – but was far less successful in regards to its other aim of getting society to notice that “feminized jobs, spaces and personality characteristics were also valuable, and deserved to be remunerated and esteemed.”
The reverberating result: “It’s not a preference for men over women” that we’re grappling with, “but a preference for masculinity over femininity” – to our collective detriment, but especially men’s. An example: Overtly “girly” products like lotions are avoided by men – and that includes sunscreen, which has contributed to higher rates of skin cancer, and more deaths from it, among men.
For children growing up over the past several decades, this shift has resulted in a phenomenon Wade calls the “freedom / power paradox.” She explains: “Men have less freedom, but they have more power. There are things they are restricted from doing, but they are still the most rewarded. Women, meanwhile, can balance these traits in all sorts of ways, but … their labor is devalued. More freedom, less power.”
Niobe Way, a professor of psychology at New York University (and an author as well), broke down another key part of the problem. “We’re born social by nature” – and without a warm community to open up to, we grow untethered.
As boys, specifically, grow older, “you start to hear about a crisis of connection,” she says. “They’re being raised in a culture that defines not only manhood, but maturity, as autonomy, independence, self-sufficiency. Anything that has to do with relationships, emotions, sensitivity, soft skills – it’s all feminized” and dismissed as less important.
When you deny your very nature – because society pressures and shames you into doing so – “you disconnect from yourself,” Way continued. And when boys, already angry and stifled, become disconnected from their humanity, they grow into men who lash out. Men comprise the vast majority of all rapists, murderers, serial killers and mass shooters because, as a result of that internal separation, “they cannot see the humanity of another person” either, she concludes.
Freeing The Men (And Everyone Else)
So how do we raise our young boys to be empathetic – for everyone’s protection, including their own – when the world labels them as weak for being so?
Way posits that “the solution is to … nourish our nature, to create a culture that’s pro-social, that values both our hard and our soft sides.” To encourage their friendships and teamwork as much as their individual achievements. And, to normalize emotion and empathy by talking plainly about it with them. In their public speaking work, both Way and Wade say they share anecdotes of teen boys and men expressing feelings and care during the assemblies, workshops and more that they host for younger boys who need to know it’s ok – even good – to behave that way.
Having men to show the way to them would help, too, some experts add – men they see in their everyday lives, of course, with father figures having an especially important role to fill as living models of kindness, patience and outward care. There are also pop culture exemplars to turn to, like actor Andrew Garfield, who showed boys that grieving and crying are natural parts of human existence; the players of the New York Knicks, who showed boys that conversations about mental health, ego and community are possible, and important; and comedian Michael Ian Black, who showed boys that men can and should speak up on this very subject.
Men like Stephen Tosh, CEO and executive director of the Boys’ Club of New York, and Michael Nicholson, director of Progressive Masculinity in the UK, are working to intervene more directly – by interacting with boys firsthand to help them develop social and emotional skills.
Tosh’s program, echoing Way’s concern, is all about togetherness. “It’s connection. It’s a brotherhood. It’s a community.” His after-school program for boys in 2nd to 12th grades provides a space where “they are safe, they are welcomed, and they also learn from each other.”
Specifically, they learn together that “resilience isn’t tightening your fists and biting down and all that.” Rather, it’s about developing a vocabulary to talk things through. “They’re depressed, angry and lonely,” he says. “Every boy has challenges, pressures, different things that they have to deal with. What [we do] is provide a safe haven” for processing out-loud.
Nicholson, meanwhile, emphasizes breaking down that oh-so-narrow definition of masculinity – the one that keeps them, and all of us, trapped within Wade’s paradox. “Our main mantra is that there’s four billion different ways to be a man. Our work is really about creating these nonjudgmental safe spaces” where boys can sort out what kind of person they want to be – “to break these intergenerational codes and scripts that are handed down.”
The negative role models do harm the work, Nicholson notes. “A boy will often say to me, ‘Look at Elon Musk. He’s the richest man in the world, and he behaves like that.’ That’s quite hard to counter, isn’t it? The way I would reply to that is: ‘You’re right – Elon Musk does model that type of masculinity. But is the point to be rich, or is the point to be a good man?’”
Or, as Wade asserts: “You teach young people to be good people” and dismantle the gender binary around the concept altogether. Indeed, fully sapping gender from traits like caring and emoting might also help boys grow up feeling free to embody them.
That sort of shift could even save them, she says. Perhaps it could save us all – including my son. ◼️
