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A note before you read: this is a longer post than usual - around a 7-minute read. But it’s a topic I care deeply about, and I hope you’ll find it worth your time.
Introduction
I saw something very powerful on television last week. And I’m not talking about Inside the Manosphere – though we’ll come back to that.
Rather, it was an exchange between two men on a football discussion programme - a show normally known for sharp analysis and good-natured banter, not for emotional revelation. But then, at the beginning of the show, in front of an international audience, one of them paused to say something real to his friend and colleague. Something unexpected. Something kind.
The other man received it. He didn't deflect, didn't laugh it off; didn't reach for a joke to kill the awkwardness of the moment. He accepted it - admittedly, with no small degree of self-consciousness - but then, courageously, talked openly on international television about his struggles with depression and alcohol, and how a friend helped him reconnect with the true meaning of life beyond the glitz and glamour of being a professional footballer.
It was, without exaggeration, one of the most powerful displays of masculinity I've seen on television in recent years.
We'll come back to it, as an example of what some writers refer to as positive masculinity (Kiselica & Englar-Carson, 2010).
But first, we need to talk about the other kind.
Rather, it was an exchange between two men on a football discussion programme - a show normally known for sharp analysis and good-natured banter, not for emotional revelation. But then, at the beginning of the show, in front of an international audience, one of them paused to say something real to his friend and colleague. Something unexpected. Something kind.
The other man received it. He didn't deflect, didn't laugh it off; didn't reach for a joke to kill the awkwardness of the moment. He accepted it - admittedly, with no small degree of self-consciousness - but then, courageously, talked openly on international television about his struggles with depression and alcohol, and how a friend helped him reconnect with the true meaning of life beyond the glitz and glamour of being a professional footballer.
It was, without exaggeration, one of the most powerful displays of masculinity I've seen on television in recent years.
We'll come back to it, as an example of what some writers refer to as positive masculinity (Kiselica & Englar-Carson, 2010).
But first, we need to talk about the other kind.
