Guess I Should Buy An Axe

Unless you’ve been backpacking in a remote wilderness the past few years, you’ve heard some part of the increasingly heated discussion around masculinity. The starting point, as a Washington Post headline writer recently put it is, “Men are lost”.

Christine Emba’s July 10th article, “Men are lost. Here’s a map out of the wilderness” has received lots of positive attention. Slightly different than her headline writer, Emba’s starting point is young men’s “weirdness”.  Whether “lost” or “weird” the suggestion is that a positive vision of masculinity is the way forward. Men will be less lost and weird when we recognize some gender distinctiveness without pathologizing differences.

“For all their problems,” Emba writes, “the strict gender roles of the past did give boys a script for how to be a man. But if trying to smash the patriarchy has left a vacuum in our ideal of masculinity, it also gives us a chance at a fresh start. . .”. She adds, “We can find ways to work with the distinctive traits and powerful stories that already exist—risk-taking, strength, self-mastery, protecting, providing, procreating. We can recognize how real and important they are. And we can attempt to make them pro-social—to help not just men but also women, and to support the common good.”

All quite vague, making the reference to a “map” just one more example of headline exuberance.

Further along, Emba gets slightly more specific. “In my ideal,” she adds, “the mainstream could embrace a model that acknowledges male particularity and difference that doesn’t denigrate women to do so. It’s a vision of gender that’s not androgynous but still equal, and relies on character, not just biology. And it acknowledges that certain themes—protector, provider, even procreator—still resonate with many men and should be worked with, not against.”

Since most gender differences are exaggerated, I propose a radical approach to this discussion and that is chucking the concept of masculinity altogether. Instead of ruminating on what it means to be a boy or a man, we’d be better off encouraging young people to “cut and paste” from caring and kind human beings across the gender continuum. Notice how they listen. Consider their sense of humor. Notice their humility. Reflect on their quiet strength. Nothing positive comes from thinking about gender as a competition of sorts.

In Emba’s piece, Scott Galloway, whose podcasts I enjoy, says, “Where I think this conversation has come off the tracks is where being a man is essentially trying to ignore all masculinity and act more like a woman. And even some women say that—they don’t want to have sex with those guys. They may believe they’re right, and think it’s a good narrative, but they don’t want to partner with them.”

For being a UCLA grad, Galloway struggles with subtlety and nuance. The patriarchy is so pervasive, some women are hopelessly wedded to it. Many others are not. Galloway’s reference to “acting more like a woman” implies women are the kinder, more caring, more nurturing, and more emotionally intelligent half of the population.

I can cycle up and down mountains, lift weights, and climb on the roof and clean the gutters while trying to listen to others more patiently and empathetically. All while trying to be more vulnerable on top. The touchy-feely stuffs probably excites the Good Wife at least as much as the physical activities which come more naturally to me.

If asked, she’d probably say, “Why should I have to choose between those things?” My entire point is that women shouldn’t.

One tongue-in-cheek commenter in an expectedly mindless on-line discussion on what masculinity entails had a great response. “Everything is there except wood chopping,” he joked. You are not a man until you fell a tree with an axe, split the wood and heat the house with it.”

At least I think he was joking.

Groundhog Day: Surprised Again By A Star Athlete’s Flaws

Jeff Pearlman’s book, Sweetness: The Enigmatic Life of Walter Payton, was released yesterday. Payton played professional football for da’ Bears from 1975-1987. The Walter Payton Man of the Year award is given annually by the NFL honoring a player’s volunteer and charity work, as well as his excellence on the field. Prior to 1999, it was called simply the NFL Man of the Year Award. Shortly after Payton died from cancer in 1999 the award was renamed to honor his legacy as both a great player and a humanitarian.

A humanitarian who, according to Pearlman, was in a long-standing close relationship with another woman besides his wife (who insisted not only on attending his Hall of Fame induction ceremony, but sitting in the front row), was addicted to pain pills, and seriously contemplated suicide. Apparently Pearlman spends twenty to thirty of the four hundred pages on the unseemly underside of Payton’s private life.

Payton’s coach, Mike Ditka, is leading a backlash against Pearlman’s book. “I’d spit on him,” he said recently. “I have no respect for him.”

In which case I have no respect for Ditka who needs a primer on the first amendment.

Dan Patrick, my favorite sports media person, recently discussed the controversy engendered by the book. His question was, “Do you the fan want to know the truth about the athletes you follow?” Patrick said he did. Others on his show said they did not. Patrick went on to say the fans don’t realize athletes are human beings. Ordinary human beings, a mix of good and bad, like all of us.

Wouldn’t it be nice if they were more like us. If we limit the discussion to professional basketball and football players (versus professional marathoners, swimmers, or amateur athletes for instance) from the last decade or two, there’s ample legal evidence that their behavior, on average, is far worse than the ordinary human beings that pay to watch them play.

Why? Some possibilities:

1) If power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely, the same is probably true for money. I suspect, especially in cases where someone grows up without any, mad money blows those teetering on the fence of adhering to society’s norms off onto the “laws don’t apply to me” side.

2) Public adulation is another wind blowing those teetering on the fence of society’s norms off onto the “laws don’t apply to me” side. The star professional athlete’s classic line when pulled over, “Don’t you know who I am?”

3) In the case of football at least, the more violent the player is on the field, the more successful. Maybe it’s hard, when the stadium and television lights are turned off, to throw the non-violent switch.

4A) Some athletes blow through their money while playing short careers, don’t have enough of an education to fall back on after retiring, and turn to the “informal” economy to get by. See Lenny Dykstra. 4B) Some suffer from public adulation withdrawal. The Dennis Rodman effect. They’re committed to staying in the public’s conscience even if they have to repeatedly get arrested to do so.

5) Sociology. You are the company you keep. Middle school students aren’t the only ones susceptible to negative peer pressure. Locker rooms no doubt have tipping points.

Of all people, Ditka should know that every athlete is a one-person public relations firm. There are lots of faithful, law-abiding professional athletes making worthwhile contributions to society off the field. Just not as large a percentage of the readers of this blog.