“Men in Crisis” seems to be an early contender for the zeitgeist of 2026, or at least a cool name for an indie band. But in all seriousness, something weird and worrying is afoot. Graduation rates, employment, and dating are down, loneliness is up, and stability and security seem to many like relics of the past.
This cocktail of confusion has found fertile ground in the “manosphere,” a digital den of arrested development where the disillusioned, uninformed, and unjustifiably cocksure have eagerly planted their flag. Mark Twain could have been describing the manosphere’s chest-thumping ethos when he quipped, “All you need in this life is ignorance and confidence, then success is sure.”
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If you’re unfamiliar, the manosphere promotes the bizarre practice of hitting your face with a hammer (“bonesmashing,” a subset of “looksmaxxing”) to achieve a more optimal bone structure, injecting highly questionable peptides for various beautification aims, and an emerging obsession with fertility that in one instance culminated in a well-attended “sperm race” on a microscopic racetrack in Los Angeles. DraftKings, anyone?
This preoccupation with fertility has led some men to take up that hallowed, time-honored quest for the perfect pair of underwear, while others spend vast sums on sleep monitoring gear (Call me old-fashioned, but what happened to going to bed when you feel sleepy?).
All of these side quests suggest that us men are in a weird and insecure state, casting about willy-nilly for anchors to affirm our manhood. I’ll submit one more piece of evidence to the list: body wash (If no one else is going to talk about it, I will).
I first noticed — I mean, really noticed — the names of men’s suds in the grocery store the other day. The vast majority suggested we should smell like we’ve been chopping cords of wood all day — I spotted Timber, Cedarwood, Sandalwood, Birchwood, Vanilla Wood, even Driftwood, whatever that smells like. There was also Wood Barrel Bourbon and Bearglove, whatever that is (a bear’s glove?). One prominent brand’s mascot is simply Sasquatch. You know he can’t smell good.
These are caricatures of manliness. We’re a stone’s throw from “Jim Beam and Gym Socks,” “Lawn Mowers and Grass Clippings,” or “Benchpresses and Oil Changes.“ It’s all getting out of hand — err, bearglove.
Now, I wouldn’t call myself a resounding success story — I’ve never had a garage — but I do have four wonderful kids with my wife of 14 years. I hope that’s enough to chance some advice to the young men at risk of getting pulled into the manosphere and Big Body Wash’s ludicrous orbit.
Here goes:
NETFLIX DOCUMENTARY EXPOSES TOXIC ‘MANOSPHERE’ INFLUENCERS
Before you put a hammer to your face or enter your sperm in a race, try the following: show up, work hard, and give it your best; be kind and curious; don’t hold grudges; play sports, or an instrument, or something; get outside; read books, not phones; meet lots of different people and keep an open mind; travel whenever you get the chance; pursue the big questions about faith and God.
I hope that’s not too trite or preachy; after 40 years on this earth, it’s what I’ve found most useful. So that’s what I’ll leave you with. I’m not quite sure about the root causes that presently ail us, but I’m rooting for us, fellas.
Zach Przystup is the author of the Substack “Ask Your Father,” where he writes about parenting, family life, sports, and technology.
