I’d Get on the Offline

We appear to have hit some event horizon about the state of young men and boys coming of age. This commentary has been running for a few years in the States and now appears to be hitting the UK as a greater cultural conversation. This topic is something of a biased one for me — my beginnings were calamitous at best. It’s taken the other side of 30 to build a genuine identity and a feeling that I’m not just another lost male in a sea of them.

As a millennial, I had a half-and-half childhood. Born in 1991, I had a near clear split between an analogue world of legacy media and phones on walls before the rise of all things wireless and the internet. Someone 10 years my junior has grown up in a profoundly screen-based childhood where most interaction and information are found online. Being online is very much their norm, and suggesting that young people stay clear of what’s “in” might not exactly win me any listeners.

The major concern about our youngest men is a listlessness that easily falls into isolation, gaming, porn, and gambling. Being directionless as a young man is far from easy or fun. We tend to be prone to cover this with a willful, jet-propelled narcissism or overcompensation to make up for a lack of self-image, worth, or direction. Finding one’s feet in a world quick to judge men on their competency when one is still developing is uncomfortable at best. However, I can’t deny that the incredible, godlike tool called the internet is the root cause of this current generational malady. Not for a second am I suggesting young people don’t use the internet, but their relationship with it may well be in need of adjustment.

There is consistent commentary that young men are in need of role models. This is a traditional approach to an entirely novel time. I’d argue that models for the analogue world may not work so well digitally. Role models are great, but counting on them to be present in a society of new-thing-next-thing, throwaway consumerism may be unwise. Young men don’t need father figures; they need to find out who they are. This is often a years-long process, but in my observation working with men younger than myself, there are some simple ways for starting this process.

Time to play the game?

I’m a ‘90s kid. I grew up on Streets of Rage 2, Sonic the Hedgehog, Goldeneye, and other gems. The ‘00s was something of a golden age for video games, and I was a teenager; I won’t deny this was close to bliss. I barely have time for video games now, but I know I don’t want them out of my life altogether. Video games can be a part of any young man’s life, as they have been mine, but there is a difference between my younger years and the lives of young men now. During my youth, video games meant inviting friends round and playing together in the same room. What young men have access to now are headsets and playing online with others who are often miles apart. It’s worth considering either deprioritizing or fighting the tide of an innately singular activity — game less to make time for other interests or commit and develop the interest externally. This would mean attending events, expos, competitions, and online communities to make an isolated interest more sociable.

Porn

There is not a single feted or worthwhile piece of self-help or dating literature for men that doesn’t tell them to give up pornography yesterday. There’s no net win in the usage of porn. If the material is from professionals, we’re possibly witnessing the outcomes of social outcasts, tearaways, and neglect and abuse victims. If the material is from amateurs, none of the above may be true, but you’re still a peeping tom by definition! I’ve read that consistent porn use over time is prone to emotionally numbing the user, the exact opposite of what a young person finding themselves needs. I’m of the firm belief that young men should claim and take responsibility for their own pleasure, not lean on virtual externals to uphold it in some sleazy crutch. I can confirm that it is 100% normal for a young man at the turn of his twenties to have a sky-high sex drive. 

But can the same thing be said about someone taking a laptop to bed every night?

Address isolation

Coming from a dysfunctional home, isolation and its patterns were the norm. It’s jarring to me that my formative circumstances can hold matters relatable on a mass scale. We were a house of closed doors; we seldom connected or shared a space beyond mealtimes and family holidays. I’ve come to realize in the years since that that experience has impacted how I’ve gone about life. I’m always seeking a place for myself, and despite a clear need for it like anybody else, I can easily find social engagements draining. I have had to be quite proactive and push myself to stave off isolating patterns and habits I inherited and never asked for. My fear is that many young men could find themselves fighting the tide I did, which leads me to…

Apps aren’t the way forward

At the time of writing this, apps geared toward dating, hooking up, and socializing appear to be hitting a saturation point; people are increasingly losing interest in them. I’d argue not a moment too soon. Apps are highly functional, but maybe they’re too much so for what they are supposed to be contending. What should be a boon for technology, a remarkable attempt at providing opportunities for connection, is not so in reality. Apps are more akin to human meat markets, dissolving valuable connection into an impersonal validation frenzy. I don’t know anyone who hasn’t experienced app fatigue sooner or later, and I include myself in that. If you want to meet a woman or new people in general, put yourself out there. There are numerous online platforms that advertise  in-person social events, so it’s easy to find something to do. 

In my experience, they’re well worth it.

Where do we go from here?

The primary theme I keep returning to seems to be this: get offline. This is not quite true. What the steps above outline is to not rely on the internet to fill one’s needs and to carefully use it to find opportunities in the real world. Be online to find social events, not socialize. Follow your interests to find your calling; don’t fix a job path to define your identity. Focus on building yourself to attract the right people; don’t desperately chase in the hope of finding someone. This is the advice I’d give my younger self. 

Yes, men are judged on competency. Yes, it’s important that a man is competent, but perhaps not in the way we uphold it as a culture. What makes a competent, valuable man? Amor fati. Or, the acceptance of one’s self, life, and fate. Someone who can embrace all of life. He sees the good and the bad, success and suffering, and responsibilities and hardships as all having value and necessity. A competent, valuable man isn’t about his paycheck, lifestyle, or status; it’s about him going after what he wants in life and having a hell of a time getting there. Come rain or shine, upheaval or mastery, any day of the week. 

The struggle is where growth happens, and that growth might be what gives life a sense of unfolding, progressive adventure. In my experience, it’s worth the fight.