The world fails men.
We fail everyone, but we fail men in particular. And that failure leads to a countless number of men—some incredibly smart, talented, strong, brave, and decent men—achieving positions of influence where they inevitably perpetuate the cycle of collectively failing men, and by proxy, all of the women and children in their sphere of influence.
Teammates and tribesmen.
What men in these positions think, believe, do, feel and say affects countless people—the ripple effects of which can last for centuries.
Many of these guys are amazingly virtuous. Many are trying their best every day to live according to the values instilled in them. They’re simply following the examples of their male role models from their youth.
These aren’t evil men Muahahaha-ing and fist-bumping a bunch of other sadistic D-holes in the secret back room of their private male-only clubs. I mean, some are, but those dipshits aren’t hard to spot, nor are their crimes dangerously undetectable.
What is so dangerous about the world failing men is that we’ve created billions of very decent human beings who unknowingly walk around every day trying their God’s-honest best, but are accidentally napalming their homes and closest relationships.
It’s a problem.
Your Life Will Be Measured by Your Family and Friends—Not All That Other Stuff
Life is essentially a contest to see who can have the most people say truthful, authentically nice things about us at our funerals.
Men are taught that status is everything. It’s reinforced by women, because women are often attracted to high-status men. It’s reinforced by children, because children’s lives can often benefit in observable ways (financially and socially) from high-status fathers.
Men pursue wealth. Men pursue fame. Men pursue physical attractiveness. Men pursue business ventures, athletic competitions and hobbies where they succeed. Men pursue sexual conquests. Men pursue the accumulation of material possessions. Men pursue all of this shit that doesn’t mean a damn thing to ANYONE the second the doctor tells them they have terminal cancer, or discover their wife having an affair, or try to digest their child’s suicide note.
What men really want is to have PURPOSE.
And all of those aforementioned “successes” have a legitimate purpose in our personal lives. I’m not trying to trivialize success in personal ventures. It matters to all of us.
I’m only saying that most of us coast through much of life unaware of this obvious truth:
The #1 influence on how good our lives are is the quality of our human relationships.
No amount of money, possessions, career success, trophies on the shelf, notches on the bed post, nor fame can provide the peace and contentment we all crave down deep inside.
Fear. Sadness. Pain. Anxiety. Anger. Stress. Grief. Shame.
These are the mortal enemies of all of us, but surely for men.
When we put the people we care about, live near, and work with, first—selfless love, humble leadership, principle above profit—the only Life currency that actually matters starts to accumulate.
And then when we do that enough, more people will cry and share funny stories at our funerals instead of not give a crap we croaked because they kind of thought we were assholes anyway.
Most of What We Believe About Marriage and Relationships Is Wrong
It’s not our fault.
All we have to go in is our parents, who either divorced, or fumbled through marriage hiding most of the hard stuff from us because no one taught them any of this either.
Our marriages or long-term relationships (or lack thereof) ultimately prove to be the biggest influencers on our day-to-day lives. If our relationships are shitty, our lives are shitty.
Many men believe if they make money or experience personal success somehow, and showcase attractive characteristics while being generally nice and not cheating on their partners, that THAT is being a good husband and/or father.
Men think that being a good man automatically defaults them to “good husband” or “good father,” if they are married or have children. I thought the same thing.
But it’s a dirty lie we accidentally tell ourselves.
Good men can be colossally shitty husbands. You can have all the character and professional skills in the world and still demonstrate gross incompetence as a husband and father.
You can be a genius and still not know how to design and build skyscrapers or working space shuttles.
You can be a brilliant musician and still not know how to play several instruments.
You can be a GREAT guy and absolutely destroy your wife, causing her to cry for months and years before she eventually has an affair and/or files for divorce.
Men Have Done, and Will Do, Great Things
For all of the bad things men have done and will do in the future, guys are still pretty awesome.
For every horrible story you can tell me with a man at its center, I can share dozens more about guys who did great things—brave warriors, courageous leaders, wise teachers, loving husbands and fathers, genius inventors, inspiring artists, disciplined athletes, and brilliant thinkers who helped shape and change the world in positive ways with better ideas.
I still get the occasional note accusing me of man-bashing and betraying my own gender. The last thing I want to be is someone adding to the negativity.
What I’d like to be is a teacher because I think there are men out there who I’m capable of helping, even though I’ve always felt like an asshole trying. As if I somehow know more about life or relationships or anything than any other guys out there.
What’s worse than some know-it-all jerkoff acting like he knows more than you, or is in any way better than you?
Burning sensations while peeing? Traffic jams when you’re in a hurry? That whiny cartoon kid, Caillou?
Pretty sure that’s the entire list.
I’m not on any one group’s side. I’m on EVERYONE’S side. Men are going to have a lot to do with humanity’s future turnaround when the tenets of good relationships become common knowledge instead of the annoyingly huge secret they seem to be today.
Sometimes I Can Help, So I Must
I’m not better nor smarter than you. I’m probably worse and dumber.
But I might still be able to help.
Maybe not you. Maybe not your partner. Maybe not your friends nor family. But someone, probably.
I hit a couple of quasi-significant personal milestones recently.
I turned 38 about a week and a half ago.
We never feel as old as we are, right? That number doesn’t seem as significant to me as it did when my parents were my age. But 38-year-olds can know things. I’ve been eligible for the U.S. presidency for three years now.
Also, April 1 marked four years since my marriage ended. Four years that I have spent dissecting my failed relationship from every angle I could think of, and always asking: What could I have done differently that would have led to a happier result for my wife, son, friends and extended family?
If my divorce was someone else’s fault, then that means it’s a lottery. Dumb luck. It means I am a helpless slave and victim to the passing whims and fancies of whoever I date or marry, and have absolutely no control over what happens to me or my young son.
But if I’m responsible—and I am responsible—then there’s hope. I don’t have to be afraid of it happening again.
My marriage ending was the worst thing that ever happened to me. There is no close second-place thing. Yesterday morning while I was dropping my son off at school, he told me he doesn’t like Mondays because no matter which of his parents he just spent a fun weekend with, he knows he’s probably not going to see them again until Wednesday evening and that it makes him sad.
I’ve been thinking about that ever since. What that child has to carry because of me.
He’s in third grade, so he hasn’t asked me any hard questions yet. But he probably will someday.
That’s when he’ll realize that his father failed his mother, and by proxy, him. That I made his life shittier than necessary because I too often made things about me when they needed to be about them—him and his mom.
When we put others first, our lives are satisfying and filled with meaning.
When we put ourselves first, we damage others—often without realizing it—and that damage can change the trajectory of our lives and of those closest to us. And then we inadvertantly damage ourselves.
It can ruin us. Poison us. Break us.
Broken people raising broken children.
Broken fathers raising broken sons.
Broken men raising broken boys and girls who don’t always learn how to be whole again. Girls who may never learn what it’s supposed to look and feel like when a husband loves a wife. Boys who may never learn what it looks like to love and serve our families, to lead humbly, and how the rewards of unbreakable marriage and family is much greater than the short-term highs of their individual pursuits.
Boys and girls become the new men and women.
And then they don’t teach their sons the things they needed to know. So the boys grow up repeating the sins of their fathers.
Not because they’re bad. Just because they didn’t know better. Because their parents didn’t know. And their grandparents didn’t know. And neither did anyone else.
Marriage is difficult, and everyone “knows” it just like we know that fire can burn us.
Still we often learn the hard way while our relationships crumble around us just like we can only feel the intense pain of severe burning in the middle of the fire.
And too often, for a long time afterward.