Some Aspects of Conventional Masculinity Aren’t Only Toxic But Deadly
Performing conventional masculinity comes with a price, and often that price is death
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Content Warning: this article discusses mental health issues and suicidal ideation.
“Whether manifested as suicidal behavior, foolish risk-taking, or physical violence directed at others, masculinity can and does kill.”
I understand why the term “toxic masculinity” is useful, and I find myself using it frequently as well. However, sometimes the word “toxic” feels inadequate and the word “deadly” seems more fitting; I believe that if the prevailing ideal of masculinity (traditional, American masculinity in particular) was not as tough, stoic, and unattainable as it is, many lives could be saved.
We present boys and young men with masculine ideals that are impossible to achieve, which understandably makes many men feel inadequate and emasculated. And, for insecure and alienated men, violence and aggression often become the only ways for them to regain their agency (remember what happens in Fight Club?).
The notion that performing traditional masculinity can be destructive to a point where it becomes life-threatening is something we have known for a long time. Several studies have pointed out the negative effects that conforming to conventional norms of masculinity has on men’s mental health: for instance, Joel Y. Wong et al. found in their research study that “the specific masculine norms of self-reliance, power over women, and playboy [are] unfavorably, robustly, and consistently related to mental health-related outcomes.” Men are also less likely to seek help for mental health issues, and they are almost four times more likely to die by suicide than women: in 2018, 3,098 women between the ages of 10 and 34 died by suicide, while the number of deaths for the men in the same age cohort was 11,789 (CDC).
Moreover, research suggests a connection between socialization into traditional masculinity and domestic violence, and men obviously aren’t the only ones at risk. The crisis of masculinity has also been identified as a contributing factor in climate change, the election of Donald Trump, and even the spread of COVID-19.
I could go on, but I think these examples are enough to demonstrate that whether manifested as suicidal behavior, foolish risk-taking, or physical violence directed at others, masculinity can and does kill.
While destructive masculinity affects all of us in some way, I understand that as a woman, I do not have firsthand experience of what it is like to be a man. However, I have heard and read several stories of men whose lives have been affected by destructive, conventional masculinity and the insurmountable expectations imposed on young men. Some of these stories belong to men I know personally, while some of them are stories I have encountered through literature or other fiction. Despite all their differences, what the men at the center of these stories seem to have in common is that they have all felt pressured to try to achieve the thoroughly unattainable ideal of conventional masculinity and suppress all emotion, which has led to devastating consequences.
One such story is that of Jared Yates Sexton who writes about his coming of age in rural Indiana in his book The Man They Wanted Me to Be: Toxic Masculinity and the Crisis of Our Own Making (2019). In his book, Sexton blends scientific evidence and analysis with anecdotes of his own childhood and adolescence, and describes his experience of growing up surrounded by men who were both self-destructive and abusive towards others.
In a particularly hard-hitting section of his book, Sexton writes about a time when he came close to attempting suicide:
At that point, at that late of an hour, it seemed obvious what I needed to do. Climbing off the bed, I got on the floor and searched for the .22-caliber rifle I kept hidden under there. When I found it, I laid it and its clip of bullets on the comforter.
My dad had given me that gun, my first one, the year before. Like he’d taught me, I locked the clips into the rifle and cocked the bolt. For a long time I held it in my hands, my fingers tracing the trigger as I imagined what the world might look like without me. My mother would be heartbroken, but in that state all I could think about were the people who’d probably be relieved not to deal with my bullshit anymore. How much of a reprieve it would be not to hurt the way I did. (134–35)
Sexton did not pull the trigger, and he writes that when he woke up the following morning, having passed out with a rifle in his arms, he was finally able to see that he would have to change the direction of his life in order to stay alive.
Reading Sexton’s book reminded me of James Baldwin’s novel Giovanni’s Room (1956) in which David, a young American, travels to France and falls in love with a bartender named Giovanni. David’s inner conflict, inability to come to terms with his sexuality, and his desperate attempts to maintain his “immaculate manhood” ultimately cause Giovanni’s death, and many other people in David’s life become collateral damage.
Though completely different in many aspects (including the fact that one is fiction and the other isn’t), these two stories are not unique in the sense that sometimes societal expectations push men to a point where the loss of a loved one, a near-death experience, or some other tragedy is the only thing that can turn the tide.
I am by no means suggesting that trauma is something people should embrace, even if going through a traumatic experience forced them to do the kind of emotional work that many people do not do in their entire lifetimes. I’m also not trying to claim that men who exhibit toxic behaviors deserve to be hurt so that they can come to their senses. I do not wish physical pain or mental anguish on anyone, and I hope that more men would have the chance to start unlearning destructive behaviors and ways of thinking before it is too late.
Instead, what I’m trying to argue here is that stories like these show how the crisis of masculinity is so serious that for some men, the fundamental change in attitudes, values, and behaviors can only take place after a negative and often traumatic experience that forces them to see how much damage their behavior is causing. Conventional masculinity comes with a price, and as these stories show us, often that price is death; the victims can be lovers and family members, strangers who happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and frequently, men themselves.
I don’t think all hope is lost, though. If we make an effort to challenge the dated and harmful ideas about masculinity, and teach our children that displaying emotions, having empathy for others, and asking for help are not signs of weakness but strength, we can still change things for the better. The key is that men themselves must be a part of this effort.
Fortunately, I know men who want to be better for the sake of themselves and everyone around them, and seeing their determination, kindness, and optimism keeps me hopeful. Therefore, when it comes to the question of whether there is hope for men as individuals and for all of us as a collective, I would like to believe that the answer is “yes.”
