I read this today in the WSJ and realized that I was pretty much out of the loop on such things. It seems like something you all might be aware of and have opinions on.
What Jordan Peterson Can Teach Church Leaders
By Aaron M. Renn
Gavin Newsom is a concerned father. “I really worry about these micro-cults that my kids are in,” California’s governor told Bloomberg’s Brad Stone in an interview this month. “My son is asking me about Andrew Tate, Jordan Peterson. And then immediately he’s talking about Joe Rogan. I’m like, here it is, the pathway.” Mr. Newsom isn’t alone in his concern about the exploding popularity of online influencers among young men—or in failing to see important distinctions. Some, like Mr. Peterson, offer relatively wholesome life advice on podcasts revolving around health, fitness, personal discipline and career development. Others, like Mr. Tate—who has been charged in Romania with rape, human trafficking and being part of an organized crime ring—peddle a misogynistic brand of pickup artistry. (Mr. Tate has denied the criminal charges and described himself as the victim of a ”witch hunt.”) What they have in common is that they’re finding a receptive audience among teenage boys and young men with a genuine desire for direction that isn’t being served by the hollowed-out institutions of traditional society. Mainstream institutions and authorities—churches, schools, academia, the media—could learn a few things from the online gurus about how to speak to young men effectively.
Young men today often feel as if their needs are secondary to those of their female peers. Society tends to speak about the well-being of men and boys as a means to an end. There’s a lot of hand-wringing about how a decline in the number of marriageable men makes it harder for women to find husbands. Some argue that male struggles cause a litany of social ills like crime and child neglect. Church leaders justify outreach to men as a way to reach women and children. By contrast, online men’s influencers seek to help men themselves, to show them how to improve as people and achieve their own goals. To be sure, some of those goals are immoral, such as taking sexual advantage of women. But many are worthy, like health or career success. Online influencers treat men’s hopes and dreams as important in their own right.
Many offer teenage boys an aspirational vision of manhood. Some, like Mr. Peterson, say men are important for the sake of others, but present it as part of a heroic vision of masculinity in which men flourish as well. “You have some vital role to play in the unfolding destiny of the world,” he writes in “12 Rules for Life,” his 2018 bestseller. “You are, therefore, morally obliged to take care of yourself.” Traditional authorities, especially in Protestant churches, talk about men being “servant leaders” but reduce that primarily to self-sacrifice and serving others. Pastors preach sermons wondering why men have so much energy left at the end of the day, or saying men shouldn’t have time for hobbies. No wonder young men tune them out.
Online influencers challenge men to work harder and get better. Former Navy SEAL Jocko Willink encourages his followers to get up at 4:30 a.m. to work out. But they also give practical advice and true if sometimes politically incorrect facts, such as those about the opposite sex. Men’s relationships with women are primal. Nothing enhances these influencers’ credibility like helping young men succeed with women. Teenage boys are hungry for information on what women find attractive. The gurus tell them it’s status, confidence, charisma, appearance and style. That’s the opposite of what they’re used to hearing, which is that women want men who emotionally affirm them and are ready to commit for the long term. Guys who go the sensitive nice-guy route only to be rejected can end up frustrated and bitter.
“Godliness is sexy to godly people,” says Southern Baptist mega-church pastor Matt Chandler. Jordan Peterson, on the other hand, says, “Girls are attracted to boys who win status contests with other boys.” Which rings truer to you?
Most of these influencers have built online communities that serve as mutual support and encouragement networks for their followers. In an era of growing loneliness and social isolation, teenage boys can bond over furtively watching Andrew Tate videos that their parents and teachers deem dangerous. Because the traditional authorities typically don’t have much of an organic following among young men, they don’t generate the same kind of community. Where they do have a male audience, such as in churches, attempts at creating community are often hokey and weird. Most young men aren’t drawn to groups that ask them to “ hold each other accountable” for watching porn.
An obvious if overlooked component of these influencers’ success is that they’re all men. It’s common, especially in mainstream media, for women to be the ones sounding off about men’s issues and shortcomings. In July, Politico published a “Masculinity Issue,” featuring four articles on the theme—every one of them written by a woman.
The good news is mainstream figures and traditional institutions that want to reach men can easily re-create the online influencers’ success. They can have men talking to and about men. They can acknowledge that men are important in themselves, not only as servants to women and children. They can craft an aspirational vision of manhood that includes elements of sacrifice and service. They can build men up with practical insights and advice, even when the truth is unpopular. And they can crystallize community around them. None of these things are objectively hard to do. Perhaps respectable society won’t be able to reach those young men who are only looking to hustle women into sexual relationships. But as the range of online men’s influencers shows, plenty of boys and young men are looking for healthy and productive leadership.
Popular online gurus offer young men a vision of masculinity that is both aspirational and realistic.
Mr. Renn is a senior fellow at American Reformer, a Protestant nonprofit.
What Jordan Peterson Can Teach Church Leaders
By Aaron M. Renn
Gavin Newsom is a concerned father. “I really worry about these micro-cults that my kids are in,” California’s governor told Bloomberg’s Brad Stone in an interview this month. “My son is asking me about Andrew Tate, Jordan Peterson. And then immediately he’s talking about Joe Rogan. I’m like, here it is, the pathway.” Mr. Newsom isn’t alone in his concern about the exploding popularity of online influencers among young men—or in failing to see important distinctions. Some, like Mr. Peterson, offer relatively wholesome life advice on podcasts revolving around health, fitness, personal discipline and career development. Others, like Mr. Tate—who has been charged in Romania with rape, human trafficking and being part of an organized crime ring—peddle a misogynistic brand of pickup artistry. (Mr. Tate has denied the criminal charges and described himself as the victim of a ”witch hunt.”) What they have in common is that they’re finding a receptive audience among teenage boys and young men with a genuine desire for direction that isn’t being served by the hollowed-out institutions of traditional society. Mainstream institutions and authorities—churches, schools, academia, the media—could learn a few things from the online gurus about how to speak to young men effectively.
Young men today often feel as if their needs are secondary to those of their female peers. Society tends to speak about the well-being of men and boys as a means to an end. There’s a lot of hand-wringing about how a decline in the number of marriageable men makes it harder for women to find husbands. Some argue that male struggles cause a litany of social ills like crime and child neglect. Church leaders justify outreach to men as a way to reach women and children. By contrast, online men’s influencers seek to help men themselves, to show them how to improve as people and achieve their own goals. To be sure, some of those goals are immoral, such as taking sexual advantage of women. But many are worthy, like health or career success. Online influencers treat men’s hopes and dreams as important in their own right.
Many offer teenage boys an aspirational vision of manhood. Some, like Mr. Peterson, say men are important for the sake of others, but present it as part of a heroic vision of masculinity in which men flourish as well. “You have some vital role to play in the unfolding destiny of the world,” he writes in “12 Rules for Life,” his 2018 bestseller. “You are, therefore, morally obliged to take care of yourself.” Traditional authorities, especially in Protestant churches, talk about men being “servant leaders” but reduce that primarily to self-sacrifice and serving others. Pastors preach sermons wondering why men have so much energy left at the end of the day, or saying men shouldn’t have time for hobbies. No wonder young men tune them out.
Online influencers challenge men to work harder and get better. Former Navy SEAL Jocko Willink encourages his followers to get up at 4:30 a.m. to work out. But they also give practical advice and true if sometimes politically incorrect facts, such as those about the opposite sex. Men’s relationships with women are primal. Nothing enhances these influencers’ credibility like helping young men succeed with women. Teenage boys are hungry for information on what women find attractive. The gurus tell them it’s status, confidence, charisma, appearance and style. That’s the opposite of what they’re used to hearing, which is that women want men who emotionally affirm them and are ready to commit for the long term. Guys who go the sensitive nice-guy route only to be rejected can end up frustrated and bitter.
“Godliness is sexy to godly people,” says Southern Baptist mega-church pastor Matt Chandler. Jordan Peterson, on the other hand, says, “Girls are attracted to boys who win status contests with other boys.” Which rings truer to you?
Most of these influencers have built online communities that serve as mutual support and encouragement networks for their followers. In an era of growing loneliness and social isolation, teenage boys can bond over furtively watching Andrew Tate videos that their parents and teachers deem dangerous. Because the traditional authorities typically don’t have much of an organic following among young men, they don’t generate the same kind of community. Where they do have a male audience, such as in churches, attempts at creating community are often hokey and weird. Most young men aren’t drawn to groups that ask them to “ hold each other accountable” for watching porn.
An obvious if overlooked component of these influencers’ success is that they’re all men. It’s common, especially in mainstream media, for women to be the ones sounding off about men’s issues and shortcomings. In July, Politico published a “Masculinity Issue,” featuring four articles on the theme—every one of them written by a woman.
The good news is mainstream figures and traditional institutions that want to reach men can easily re-create the online influencers’ success. They can have men talking to and about men. They can acknowledge that men are important in themselves, not only as servants to women and children. They can craft an aspirational vision of manhood that includes elements of sacrifice and service. They can build men up with practical insights and advice, even when the truth is unpopular. And they can crystallize community around them. None of these things are objectively hard to do. Perhaps respectable society won’t be able to reach those young men who are only looking to hustle women into sexual relationships. But as the range of online men’s influencers shows, plenty of boys and young men are looking for healthy and productive leadership.
Popular online gurus offer young men a vision of masculinity that is both aspirational and realistic.
Mr. Renn is a senior fellow at American Reformer, a Protestant nonprofit.
in general: Remember when the internet was just a place people made content for fun instead of money?
