The “Plight of Young Men” seems to be a big topic of conversation currently. Yet, from what I’ve seen, few of the leading voices in the discussion actually belong to young males. In fact, much of the discourse consists of middle-aged writers – often pseudo-feminist theorists – outlining what they perceive to be the truth of the lived experience of boys. These commentators could be their mothers – but aren’t. It feels ironic that while women of my generation increasingly refuse to mother the men around us (“he’s your boyfriend not your son!”), the public perception of our male counterparts is skewed via a maternal lens.
Don’t get me wrong, I am in no way trying to hail the young men around me as revolutionarily well-adjusted. Yet if the greatest problem they are supposed to be experiencing is disenchantment and a lack of championing, talking about them as petulant children is not the answer. We are told boys my age are claiming “feminism is rife” and spotting “feminazis” everywhere. Perhaps the real problem, though, is not feminism but the gender-oriented headlines that treats them as a little bit stupid. In my experience, my male peers generally possess sufficient critical-thinking skills to realise Andrew Tate is a loon, Jordan Peterson spouts nonsense and women aren’t involved in a complex conspiracy not to sleep with them. There must be groups that go along with such idiocy, since Tate and Peterson have followings, but I have no sense it’s the majority of young men – and perhaps some sad older blokes are adding to the fan base.
But I’ve largely evaded such folly. Instead, I have come of age around male contemporaries who spend their time fooling about, gaming, playing sport and, yes, doing “boy things”, but also engaging in difficult discussions of gender, consent and feelings. The young men I know have been with us in the trenches dealing with sexual assault and engaging with an approach that entails listening and understanding. They remain comfortable in their masculinity while championing their non-male counterparts. They talk. This, I think, is the biggest attribute I have seen in my male peers: their ability to vocalise experience. Even my eighteen-year-old younger brother and his sixth-form friends are displaying this distinct evolution: taking a stand against violent or misogynistic acts and talking about the consequences of them. I observe this in my work at a pub, too. Between chatter of football and films, I overhear moments of properly intimate conversation between the young men who drink there. In an age of constant communication, fuelled by social media and apps, it’s hardly surprising that male emotion has slipped through into everyday discourse.
Talking about men as petulant children is not the answer
This isn’t to say misogyny doesn’t exist, nor that sexual violence has ceased. In fact, as our generation becomes better at communicating, I feel acts of assault have become more sinister, because getting away with it is harder. The young men I’ve known who have assaulted other people all did it in ways that showed they were conscious of how they might be caught out. Stories are crafted before acts are committed, victims are publicly gaslit and perpetrators emotionally manipulate those around them to hide their guilt. Acts of violence are adjusted to the possibility of exposure.
Problems like porn addiction remain rampant and the digitalisation of our lives means replications of experiences and feelings are perhaps easier to access than the real thing. Rather than tackle the ever-terrifying world of teenage sex and romance, some young men prefer to retreat to a space where it’s instantly accessible, third hand, and this continues to be a compelling option. When the world becomes too tricky or uncomfortable to deal with, it’s never been easier for young men to escape to an online echo chamber where everything is within their control. Despite this, most young men aren’t retreating but are turning to face their difficulties, because the reality of lived, organic experience will always win.
Yes, there are ways of recreating or experiencing – to a limited extent – physical and emotional connections online, but the artificiality of this is always clear. Yes, young men are prioritised less than before in the current landscape, but it is still the one in which they actually exist. And I think they are beginning to adapt.
The idea that we aren’t helping young men believe in themselves is not, for me, the problem. The fact there aren’t enough inspirational figures telling them how to be a man is not what’s causing disenchantment. The young men around me aren’t struggling because feminism has gone too far, they are struggling because the prospects for people my age are awful. The problem is not that they don’t have an iconography of masculinity, but that they don’t have secure livelihoods. These men are finding solace in community, in standing shoulder to shoulder with their peers and supporting one another. If violence and misogyny still exist it’s not for lack of positive male affirmations, or the lack of a male equivalent to Taylor Swift – it’s because there’s no sense their futures are protected.
Lily Webb is a recent Oxford University English graduate, currently writing and bartending
