Rebecca Traister has clearly been hanging with my ex-boyfriends:
I have observed the birth of a new breed of man: a man of few interests and no passions; a man whose libido is reduced and whose sense of responsibility nonexistent. These men are commitment-phobic not just about love, but about life. They drink and take drugs, but even their hedonism lacks focus or joy. They exhibit no energy for anyone, any activity, profession or ideology. While they may have mildly defined areas of interest — in, say, “Star Wars,” or the work of Ron Jeremy — they have trouble figuring out what kind of food they might want to eat on a given night.
Traister sits down with novelist Benjamin Kunkel to talk about what appears to be a new phenomenon, a generation of young men overcome with ennui. Though I take issue with some of the language in the article, this is something I too have observed. I thought the young men I grew up with, full of potential and vision turned listless and visionless, were isolated to this sleepy Indiana town, experiencing what I always thought of as an extended adolescence. It appears this is a more common experience than I thought.
Though, reading this article, there isn’t much with which I can fully agree — from my experience growing up with and relating to the young men described — other than a few passages. For one thing, Kunkel advocates a “sex strike” against these men. The idea rankles me in part because defining what “listlessness” is in real time is so subjective. Nerds need booty too.
Traister does push on this point and Kunkel finally gets to the larger picture:
there is a broader sense of male apathy that I’m sure has causes that aren’t just romantico-sexual in nature. It has to do with the difficulty of finding something that seems meaningful to do in the world…it seems that meaningful action is harder to take than it has been in previous historical times. I think this is the sense even of people who have no historical sense. It’s something that they feel…
I think there’s got to be a reason that the slacker — the person who feels that nothing he could do could really be all that meaningful, so why really do anything — is a more common male figure than a female figure. It must be because the person expected to act meaningfully in the public world, man or woman, has been a man forever. And men then are in a better position to sense some sort of decline in the ability to feel that you can do something meaningful in your life.
Kunkel puts this in the context that although he believes young men are experiencing this ennui in a larger political sense, it has little to do with women. Amanda notes that this isn’t a new thing, but addresses it in terms of feminism and independent male/female relationships to power and identity.
My concern is this feeling of meaninglessness among my peers. To see so many full of great ideas and potential disengage over time has been disheartening to me, or to see my peers hold onto the kinds of teenage dreams I lampooned in this post:
Has goals. Goals, people! And by goals I don’t mean, “Hopes to eventually become a rock star/professional skater/artist/etc. by putting the shoulder to the grindstone, i.e. spending all free time pot smoking, Texas Justice watching, and memorizing lines from Napoleon Dynamite.”
Young, smart, upwardly mobile, intelligent women want true partners. All of my friends who meet these qualifications have a difficult time finding romantic partners, not just boyfriends, but partners. I have struggled too. I used to argue with an ex over all the decision-making that was left up to me.* And though I kid about him with the first quote of Traister’s above, it was ultimately his inability to honor long-term commitments to himself that ended our relationship. He was a good man who was wonderful to me and to my son, but who couldn’t find it in himself to define his own meaning. With big dreams and no immediate way to achieve them, he was paralyzed.**
When the achievement of one’s goals is so distant, and when modern “success” is framed as mere earning power or exceptional fame, it’s a wonder we’re not all floundering.
Nonetheless, it was that paralysis and detachment that eventually led me to end the relationship. I have heard the story hundred times before, including myriad variations on the topic, seen this scenario played out among tens of relationships over the last five years. Because I doubt we can characterize this as a new phenomenon, Hugo Schwyzer sums up my general feelings rather well:
As one of my old friends used to say to me, “Hugo, you’re either transforming or you’re stagnating. Those are your only two options.” Stagnation is easy; growth is hard…
I don’t think any of us ever get to say “I don’t need to change.” All of us, without exception, carry around our selfish desire to stagnate, to be comfortable, to focus more on ourselves than on others. That’s true in my case and in the case of everyone I’ve ever met. Some folks are wise enough to recognize that dark side of their nature, and they spend their lives actively seeking to transform it by reaching out to others and by challenging themselves to grow. Most simply shrug, say defensively “I can’t help the way I am” and demand that others change to accommodate their own needs.
I’ve never held the conviction that one must have a high-powered job or even a degree to monopolize my romantic attention, but there is one thing I usually require of my friends and boyfriends: the desire for personal growth. It is that last statement that I hear so often from men and women alike — “I can’t help the way I am” — that depresses me so.
How hopeless.
For more reading, see Amanda’s response to the articulately misogynist letters that this article produced.
* One of the most stupid repeating conversations ever: “Where do you want to eat?” “I don’t care. Where do you want to eat?” “How about X?” “Ew, I hate X.” “Well, where do you want to eat then?” “I don’t know, you decide.” Rinse. Repeat.
** Incidentally it appears he is now making headway toward his ultimate goal through rather untraditional means. More power to him.