What the Researchers Missed About Boys

The Boys Sounded Familiar

A recent Australian study examined masculinity attitudes among 650 boys attending an all-boys school. The researchers also surveyed parents and staff in an effort to understand how boys develop their views about masculinity.

The findings were fascinating.

The researchers concluded that many boys continue to embrace traditional masculine ideals. They found that boys valued strength, responsibility, resilience, achievement, protection, provision, and earning respect. They also found that many boys felt pressure to live up to these expectations and were influenced by peers and online voices.

Much of the discussion focused on concerns about “traditional masculinity” and the influence of the manosphere.

Yet as I read the boys’ actual responses, I found myself thinking something unexpected: the boys sounded remarkably familiar.

Many decades ago, when I was growing up, boys worried about many of the same things. They wanted to become strong. They wanted their fathers to be proud of them. They wanted to earn respect, succeed, protect the people they loved, and become dependable.

None of this sounded particularly new.

In fact, many of the boys sounded remarkably similar to the men I have worked with over the past thirty-five years as a therapist. They were wrestling with questions that generations of boys have wrestled with:

• What does it mean to become a good man?

• How do I earn respect?

• What responsibilities do I have toward others?

• How strong do I need to become?

These are ancient questions.

What struck me was not the boys’ answers. It was the researchers’ inability to hear what the boys were actually saying.

Again and again, boys spoke about responsibility, strength, sacrifice, protection, duty, and earning respect. They described wanting to become the sort of men their fathers and grandfathers would admire. They spoke about carrying burdens, protecting loved ones, and becoming dependable. Many readers will recognize these aspirations immediately. They have echoed through generations of boys and men.

Yet throughout the paper, these aspirations are repeatedly translated into the language of pathology:

• Protection becomes paternalism.

• Responsibility becomes hierarchy.

• Strength becomes dominance.

• Traditional masculine aspirations become evidence of manosphere influence.

Certainly, some boys expressed troubling ideas. Some comments reflected hostility, bullying, and immaturity, and those deserve criticism. What is remarkable, however, is how often the researchers appear unable to distinguish those attitudes from the far more common aspirations toward duty, courage, sacrifice, and responsibility.

The boys say, “I want to be strong.”

The researchers hear, “I want power.”

The boys say, “I want to protect my family.”

The researchers hear, “I endorse gender hierarchy.”

The boys say, “I want my father to be proud of me.”

The researchers hear, “I have internalized restrictive masculine norms.”

The tragedy is not that the researchers disagree with the boys. The tragedy is that they seem unable to see the beauty in what many of the boys are expressing.

The boys are describing a willingness to carry burdens. They are describing obligations, service to others, and sacrifice. Yet these qualities are so thoroughly filtered through the lens of “toxic masculinity” and “manosphere influence” that the researchers largely fail to recognize them as virtues at all.

This blind spot is revealing.

If members of almost any other group spoke about sacrifice, responsibility, service, and devotion, many academics would immediately recognize these qualities as admirable. When boys express these same aspirations, however, they are often viewed primarily as evidence of social conditioning, patriarchy, sexism, or dominance.

The burden disappears. The sacrifice becomes invisible. The obligation is transformed into power.

Perhaps this is one reason so many boys increasingly feel misunderstood.

One of the most revealing findings in the study was the growing gap between boys and the adults around them. Many boys felt that schools, teachers, and even parents did not understand their views. The researchers interpreted this primarily as evidence of peer influence and online influences.

There may be some truth in that. But there is another possibility worth considering.

Perhaps boys are searching for alternative voices because many institutions no longer speak convincingly to the questions they are asking.

The researchers repeatedly point toward the manosphere as an explanation for boys’ beliefs. Yet many of the beliefs they describe long predate Andrew Tate, social media, and the internet itself:

• The desire to be strong.

• The desire to protect.

• The desire to provide.

• The desire to earn respect.

• The desire to become a man worthy of admiration.

These are not inventions of the manosphere. They are aspirations that have appeared in boys and men for generations.

The study may have been intended as an examination of modern masculinity, but what I saw was something far older. I saw boys wrestling with the same questions that many of us wrestled with decades ago.

The language surrounding masculinity may have changed. The questions have not.

And until our institutions learn to recognize both the burdens and the beauty that many boys associate with manhood, they will continue to misunderstand the very people they are trying to help.

Boys and Men are Good.