I
am so often reminded of the cyclical manner in which ideas move. To use an
arbitrary example, the formation of thunderstorms might never have crossed my
mind in the years after leaving high school geography behind me. Yet in one
particular week, over a decade later, I might find myself concluding a
conversation using the triggering point at which condensation takes place,
which results in rain, as a metaphor for my ever-waning level of tolerance with
a particular situation. Silly as this may seem, I am also ever more aware of
the idiomatic way in which we tend to use language, likening personal
experiences with natural phenomena and so forth. The next day, perhaps, I might
stumble upon a diagram illustrating the anatomy of a storm. The day after that,
Korea (my current dwelling) might be struck by a typhoon. Higher powers and all
that aside, these reminders of our synchronicity with our environment
eventually lead to the birth of new ideas – that wonderful moment when
supercharged neurons fire up and collide with each other, making a connection
that was not there before. But that should be left for another discussion. As
far as this cluster of words goes, synchronicity is perhaps what has re-piqued
my interest in the topic of masculinity of late.
It
would seem etiquette has fallen by the wayside. Modern society, perhaps born of
an insatiable desire for convenience, has deemed it in the way. After all, how
many minutes in a day would essentially be wasted not getting to the point by
holding doors, devising seating plans and engaging in polite chit-chat to
signal that we care? And what a shame that is? How cynical we’ve become?
Etiquette used to be the hard and fast guide book that dictated behavior. Now,
anything that dictates is deemed the root of all evil. As individuals, it is
possible that we have become more independent, though in my experience,
independence should never be mistaken for laziness. In many ways, we have been
forced to, since the powers that be have proven to have failed us. But however
old-fashioned etiquette may have become, it still contains vital clues that may
help us solve the mystery that is the gender divide.
I
have come to detest the expression, battle of the sexes, as a means of
describing the dynamic that exists between men and women. For obvious reasons,
it conjures in the mind more than a mere whiff of negativity. More troubling than
that, it implies that our natural state of existence as a species should be one
of conflict. In other words, if men and women are not at war with each other,
something is afoot, one might say. And while we have our differences, would it
not be infinitely more productive if we shifted our attentions to the things we
have in common?
From
this point it may seem like the natural next step would be to blame feminism
for our state of mind, but this is too easy. Feminists were simply reacting to
a dominant world view. Marxist feminists fought for socio-economic equality,
radical feminists celebrated everything that was womankind, but more specifically
not mankind, and then there was liberal feminism that simply wanted to be
equal. The various states of feminism aside, a dark cloud has descended on men
and all that we are.
A
recent article in the U.S. edition of Men’s Health (September 2012) caught my
eye and dealt precisely with this topic. The article functioned as a kind of
cerebral pep talk (pep talks being one of the publication’s specialities) to
men at large, especially those who might of late and wherefore they know not,
lost all their mirth, if I may. The journalist argues that masculinity and all
that it implies, has become a shorthand means of referring to something
superfluous and even useless. In other words, utterances such as, “It’s a guy
thing” and, “You know… men”, have become commonplace without so much as an objection
from the men in question, lazy gits! Where there is smoke, there is fire, of
course. Are we guilty of at least half of the things we stand accused of? Sure.
No use in denying the plainly obvious. A majority of men struggle with
commitment. Our desire to venture beyond our fences has been the root of many of
the criticisms we have endured. Even the contributions made by popular
homosexual culture have added our almost genetic reputation as sexual nomads.
The trouble with stereotyping, of course, is that the recipient of it
eventually believes it.
That’s
so like a man to succumb to conditioning so readily, is it not? But in a way,
stereotyping men can be a little bit like rubbing salt into the wound. How
often are we reminded of the fact that our function in the propagation of the
species is an infinitesimally simple one? All that is needed is a good batch of
sperm. For everything else (so tempting to go the Mastercard route here), there
are women. Cynical, yes, but on any Titanic, who are the first ones to be
loaded onto the life rafts? And rightly so. Our survival depends on that kind
of thinking.
This
is perhaps where etiquette comes into play, for etiquette is based on this kind
of thinking. It functions as a system that organizes society and gives it
social structure. But more than that, it allows us to delight in the moments
when we are on display. We can take pride in the manner in which we carry
ourselves publicly. Our prowess over manners says something about our skill at
being men, but more importantly, at being human. Why should we forsake the
handshake, the kiss on the cheek and the nod from across the room when they
function as mechanisms for connecting with others effectively? And it is the
way in which we use them that we claim our little space in this world.
The
internet and in particular social media have allowed us a certain degree of immunity
to the responsibilities that accompany our individual genders. It is so easy to
be an absolute arse, or indeed bitch, no matter what your gender, when one is
not held accountable for one’s words tête-a-tête. When
we stand disembodied we stand simultaneously free from grace, which I for one
hope will change.
I
believe in masculinity just as I believe in femininity. I believe that the one
feeds the other. Do they need each other? On a basic level, yes. Beyond that,
no. But what is any relationship, and I hasten to include friendship here,
based on need? It is not from need that we find balance, for need breeds
obsession, dependence, addiction and eventual indifference. I believe in
balance above all else. For men, I wish that we may reclaim our place, not as
masters of the universe, but masters of our selves. We should not forget that our
territories also span inward into vast and unknown regions. Conquer that and we
will have conquered much indeed.
Hanfred Rauch
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