The Masculinity Crisis Is Real. So Is the Solution
Last year, I worked at one of the top treatment centers for young men in the country. These guys came from every corner of the U.S.—different cities, races, religions, upbringings. On the surface, they seemed like they had it together: athletic, sharp, confident, “masculine.” But once they were in a safe space, behind closed doors, I saw what was really going on.
They were lost. Lonely. Isolated. Terrified of not measuring up.
And it hit me: we're in the middle of a masculinity crisis—but not in the way most people are talking about.
This isn’t about politics or culture wars. It’s not about trying to reclaim power or tear down tradition. This is about evolution. It’s about identity. It’s about what happens when the old definition of manhood stops working—and no one offers us a better one.
My Father, His Father, and Me
I grew up with a father who was doing his best to be everything his own father wasn’t. My grandfather abandoned his family when my dad was young. So my dad—maybe without even realizing it—spent his life trying to fix that story.
He married my mom after finding out she was pregnant. He got his MBA, took every promotion he could to provide more for our family. He tried to keep his two boys on the straight and narrow. From the outside, this man checked every box. He was a provider, a protector, a hard worker. A "real man."
But here's where my story takes a turn.
I was more of an emotional than intellectual kid. I did well in school, but what came most naturally to me was reading people, understanding emotion. That wasn’t exactly celebrated where I grew up. There didn’t seem to be a place for that kind of sensitivity in the masculine world I was raised in.
So I adapted. I did what I thought a man was supposed to do. I played sports. I got the degree. I went into consulting and sales. I made great money. I built the resume and the lifestyle. And I felt completely hollow inside.
When Masculinity Becomes a Mask
For years, I tried to ignore what I was feeling. Because that’s what I was taught—directly or indirectly. Stuff it down. Be strong. Don’t let anything shake you. Be a man.
But the pain didn’t go away. It just got louder. More chaotic. Eventually, it showed up in the form of addiction. Alcohol became my escape, then my captor. It almost took my life.
Recovery forced me to rethink everything. Who I was. What mattered. What manhood really meant. And most of all, what it didn’t.
So... What’s Going On With Men?
Right now, men are in trouble. And that’s not some dramatic take—it’s backed by data.
Suicide and overdose—what researchers call “deaths of despair”—disproportionately affect men.
Men’s wages are lower than they were in 1979.
Fewer men are graduating from college.
One in four boys is raised without a father in the home.
Millions of men are quietly struggling with loneliness, depression, and disconnection.
But when we talk about these issues, we often get stuck in this loud, messy culture war: masculinity vs. modern society. As if we have to pick a side. As if manhood is something we have to fight for or apologize for.
And honestly? That kind of black-and-white thinking helps no one.
The Rise of Modern Masculine Voices
It's no surprise that in this cultural confusion, men are gravitating toward voices that speak directly to their experience—Joe Rogan, Jordan Peterson, Andrew Tate, and others. Some of these voices challenge men to take ownership of their lives. Others stir up a more dangerous kind of energy—blaming women, fighting progress, or stoking resentment.
Here’s the truth: there’s a fine line between building men up and fanning the flames of bitterness.
I’ve seen some guys walk that line well—offering discipline, purpose, and challenge in a way that actually helps men grow. And I’ve seen others take a hard turn into fear-based thinking: “The world’s against you. Take it back.”
That mindset might feel empowering in the short-term, but it’s just another mask. Another hollow identity.
We don’t need more men in armor. We need more men in alignment—with who they really are.
Masculinity Isn’t the Enemy. But It Needs an Update.
Masculinity itself isn’t broken. It’s just misunderstood.
Strength, assertiveness, drive, protection—these are good things when they’re rooted in something deeper than ego or fear. When they’re connected to heart, empathy, and integrity, they create incredible leaders, fathers, partners, mentors.
What’s not working anymore is the version of manhood that says you are what you earn, how hard you work, how tough you are, or how much emotion you can suppress. That version of masculinity is outdated. And honestly, it’s killing people.
We don’t need to throw masculinity out—we need to reimagine it.
What Young Men Actually Need
The young men I worked with didn’t need to be told they were weak or toxic. They didn’t need to be shamed for wanting to feel strong. They needed direction. Initiation. Mentorship. Honesty. Space to be human.
Most of them didn’t grow up with men who showed them how to process emotions in a healthy way. They were raised in a world that valued doing over feeling, success over self-awareness. So when life got hard—and it always does—they had no tools to navigate it.
What if we gave them better tools?
What if we created communities where men could be challenged and supported, where strength wasn’t about domination but resilience, vulnerability, and ownership?
What if we stopped trying to win some imaginary gender war and started building something real?
A New Way Forward
When I finally got sober, I had to let go of the man I thought I was supposed to be—the one defined by money, image, and LinkedIn titles. And in doing so, I found something better: myself.
That’s what I want for other men. Not to “man up” in the old way. But to wake up. To level up. To heal. To grow. To evolve.
Because the truth is, when men get healthy, everyone benefits—our families, our communities, our world.
So no, masculinity isn’t the problem.
But maybe it’s time we finally asked: what kind of men do we actually want to be?
