I own cycling shorts and once walked out of Mamma Mia! But that doesn't mean masculinity is in crisis
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Version 0 of 1. To massively misquote Tammy Wynette, sometimes it's hard to be a man. Right now, for example, masculinity is entrenched in a catastrophic battle for its own identity. We have spent years vacillating between the opposing cultural poles of "Phwoar, look at those tits" and "Stop looking at those tits, you rapist", and now we're groggy and confused and desperate to find a leader who can drag us back on to the path of righteousness. The good news is that someone desperately wants to be this leader, and by someone I mean every single crackpot on the face of the Earth. Or two of them, at least. One being whichever editor at Country Life magazine recently felt the need to publish a set of rules for being a modern gentleman, including "A gentleman never wears Lycra" and "A gentleman never walks out on a play". And the other being urine-drinking wilderness-liker Bear Grylls, who declared his interest by telling the Daily Telegraph that masculinity has gone awry because: "In the old days, you had your bow and arrow. Now everyone's just tweeting and Facebooking." Who are we supposed to believe? Grylls, who adheres to the notion that men are only men if they're scrabbling around in the dirt eating crap off the ground? Or Country Life, which judges men on their refusal to write with a Biro? It's a tricky one. Or at least it would be if masculinity actually were in crisis. But it isn't. It really isn't. There's no need for us to constantly define who we are, because being a man is great. Being a straight white man who lives in a developed country is even better. Honestly, it's ridiculous. The entire world was made for people just like us. We are on telly more than anyone else. We can turn up to stuff wearing whatever we want without worrying that a newspaper will call us fat. In all my life, I have only been racially profiled twice – once by a drunk Korean man who thought I was American, and once by a child who thought I was a scarecrow. It's amazing. We can get away with anything we want. Seriously, if you're not a white man you should really consider giving it a go. But being a man does have its downsides – namely that from time to time one batshit demagogue or another will pipe up to declare themselves the spokesperson for the entire gender. And it never, ever works. All it does is make anyone who doesn't fit their vision feel bad about themselves. Believe me, I know. It was bad enough being told at the age of six that I'd never be a fighter pilot because of my poor eyesight, but now Country Life is telling me that I can't be a gentleman because I own a pair of cycling shorts and once left a performance of Mamma Mia! halfway through? That doesn't mean I'm not a gentleman. It means I'm a normal person with ears and taste and an occasional flare-up of chub-rub. Trying to align yourself to Grylls's vision of rugged masculine self-reliance sounds even more problematic, because it fetishises discomfort. It's a miserly denial of progress and the realities of modern life. Yes, I'd probably die if I went on a doomed hike and found myself stranded in the middle of nowhere. But I probably wouldn't go on a hike at all, because I've got a travel pass. Admittedly, some men do take a perverse joy in denying themselves contentment. My brother Pete is much more traditionally masculine than me. He's so masculine that I'm pretty sure I once saw him reach spontaneous unstimulated orgasm just by driving a white van to the tip. From time to time we'll take part in an obstacle course race – a cross-country half-marathon where you run through ditches and climb over stuff and go home covered in grazes – together. I usually set out on these things in search of my lost masculinity, only to end them bent double, on the verge of tears, worrying about the state of my fingernails and cursing myself for having the temerity to leave my settee. Pete, on the other hand, loves them unashamedly. He'd get on really well with Grylls. They should totally meet. I'd bake a cake for them and everything. Trying to narrow masculinity down to a few core values is an entirely pointless thing to do. Hand on heart, I have never solved a single problem by trying to think like Grylls or wondering what the editorial staff of Country Life would do in my situation. Chances are you haven't, either. You don't need to be led by the hand like that. You're a man. So long as you're decent and capable and make proper efforts to minimise your dickishness, you're probably on the right track. There is an awful lot to be said for just getting on with it. Grylls should know that any time spent trying to define masculinity is time better spent elsewhere. When you analyse what makes you a man, you're just embarking on a relentless, self-indulgent masturbation session. Which, now I come to think of it, is probably most of what being a man is anyway. There, another problem solved. |