Thursday, September 6, 2007

August 27th, 2007: Men Loving other Men—It’s Not Just a Gay Thing


Father Love As A Beginning

It is only gradually that I am beginning to understand the reasons for this paper. Of course, there are social change reasons. The world would be a better place, if men could learn how to love each other. It would be an even better place, if they could learn not to be afraid of loving each other. Children would do better, women would do better, if men learned how to stop living lives in isolation from each other, angry at each other, hopeless to ever have a successful deep and intimate relationship with at least one other man.

But there is more. Most of you know that I have three sons. I always thought that I would have daughters. Having sons, three of them, still goes beyond my wildest imagination. At times I have to remind myself and say it to myself: I am the father of three sons. Aside from it making me feel strong, even protected and unafraid, saying it out loud fills me with deep passionate love for those three boys who will so very soon be men.

Though I suppose there are many boundaries between my sons and me, important ones that have their use and function, I think that our relationship is not defined by homophobic boundaries. When we’re together it is okay to be weak, to be vulnerable, to cry or to laugh out loud, it is okay to ask for a hug, to offer one, to quickly rub the other’s shoulders or simply to lean against the other.

I am very protective of this kind of relating to each other. Even when we argue with each other, and we do have our share of arguments, I tend to look for peaceful loving ways to resolve it. I tend to want to make sure, in every argument, that they know I love them. My wife sometimes thinks I’m too soft on them. I never thought of myself as “soft” only as determined not to humiliate others.

For the sake of not seeming “soft” many men sacrifice their ability to love other men and replace it with something that often comes close to humiliation. It is a competitive way of one-upmanship which sons learn from their fathers early. It is often reinforced with strongly homophobic notions. As we will discuss later on, homophobia literally translated means fear of the same sex. The very fact that homophobia is used in this way suggests to me that there might be a culturally perceived need for men to be afraid of other men, even a need to teach them to be afraid of other men, almost as if we’re afraid that—if don’t teach homophobia—our cultural edifice will inadvertently begin to crumble. And maybe it will, who knows?





Sexual Identity: A question of Essence vs. Existence

Countless are the so-called straight men who have come through my office confessing they either have or have had something for or with another man or other men. Countless are also the numbers of so-called gay men who have had something for or with a woman or women. Men from both groups worry that their incongruence with the relationship patterns of the group they would like to belong to—gays or straights—means that they are now seen as the opposite: a straight man in gay’s clothes or a gay man in straight’s clothes.

If such an encounter with another person falls within that person’s professed sexual identity, we are likely not going to think too much of it. We call it a one-night stand, a new love, attraction, boredom with another partner, affair, etc. In other words, we look at such an encounter simply as a moment in that person’s existence. However, when the encounter falls outside of the boundaries of such sexual identity we trip. We’re no longer certain that we can consider this person in the same way we had up to this point. Though it might have just been a moment in that person’s existence, a blip so to speak, we are now considering him from the perspective of essence., eternity in other words. The essence perspective is easily identified by the word “to be” and its derivatives. He is gay, she is queer, you are bi-sexual, I am straight, etc. However, considering a person from the perspective of essence after they have had an encounter outside of their sexual identity leads to concern and worry.

What is even more complicating is that there is such a thing as a cumulative essential view. This kind of view takes place when a person exhibits repeated existential moments of a certain behavior. For example, if a man has repeated affairs we might consider this as evidence that he is a philanderer. This is a different essential perspective though. It is inductive, whereas the straying from one’s sexual identity leads to a deductive essential perspective, i.e., one encounter changes a person’s sexual identity.

I believe that this sense of incongruity with one’s own sexual identity is especially troubling for men. The firm and seamless fit of a man’s masculinity, i.e., his actions, behaviors, mannerisms and thoughts as a man, this seamless fit with a perceived cultural and social ideal is an expectation that most men have of themselves. We men crave sexual identity and fear endlessly sexual disidentity. Consider for example the male client to whom I suggested he read Ronald Levant’s book Masculinity Reconstructed. My client recoiled from the thought alone believing strongly that such reading would identify him—in the eyes of others and perhaps his own—as gay.

This exemplifies, I believe, what it really means to be “straight”. Being straight means that we are willing and able to walk a very narrow edge of acceptable behaviors and thoughts that—viewed from the outside—give the reassuring sense of our heterosexuality. Being straight means that we always have to be vigilant about how we are perceived. It means that we are in constant need to reassert our heterosexual manliness.

The men that come to my office for counseling, which, of course, in and of itself is already not so straight anymore and suspiciously close to being unmanly all exhibit this kind of vigilance. It can be expressed as a relentless checking of the time and an emphasis on what they have to do afterwards, it can be a detached attitude meant to demonstrate aloofness and control, it can be—as in the case of a 15 year old boy I saw for a while—an attempt to make certain parts of his appearance look more masculine. This boy kept pressing his chin to his chest while he spoke. It took me a while that he was trying to make sure that his voice, which hadn’t changed completely yet, would not slip up on him and make him utter a humiliating squeak.

Difference and Incongruity

Difference among men is more suspicious than it is among women. Go to any average clothing store and compare the range of clothes available to women with the range of clothes available to men and you know that men are meant to look alike. Acceptable colors for men? I call them camouflage colors. Any color-choices away from that and one runs the risk of either being thought of as gay or (as in my case) from Europe.
We have no trouble imagining the lonely woman donning her male lover’s shirts, boxers, socks, etc. But just try and picture the lonely man doing the same with his female lover’s clothes and you’re probably not far from seeing the word “pervert” flash at you.

Examples can be found in every single area of our human lives. They all speak the same message: boys and men must be careful in their choices as they run the very high risk that making extraordinary choices might be seen as an incongruence in their sexual identity. Sexual identity has turned out to hold us hostage in ways that keep men on a very narrow edge of understanding their own manhood and masculinity. Sexual identity is about either/or . While it might be very helpful to a man to be able to say “I am gay” and while it might be equally helpful for a boy’s parents to say their son is gay—helpful because it identifies rather than hides, I worry about those men for whom gay and straight are not easily identified. I worry about men who call themselves bi-sexual because they have no other choice and because simply saying that they have loved or are in love or just love a man is more likely of being interpreted as closeted than as honest. I worry that sexual identity as a concept does not leave room for men to simply be together and love each other.


Identifying Gays: A New way of Reinforcing Straightness

Interestingly, we continue to make this love between men less possible and more unlikely as we continue to be liberated enough to identify and celebrate gay culture. Because no matter how it’s done, celebrating gay culture also has the effect of fencing off gay men from non-gay men. This celebration creates a zoo-effect in which we, who consider ourselves non-gay, can stand outside, enjoy what we see and, at the same time, breathe a sigh of relief that we’re not behind the fence.



Homophobia in Recent Literature on Boys and Men: The Case of Michael Gurian, et al.

Take for example Michael Gurian’s treatment of gayness in his book The Wonder of Boys. Gurian begins—as other writers who deal with boy issues—by sympathizing with the parents.

“Few things are more difficult for parents than hearing their son say, I’m gay.”

While this start into the issue of being gay makes sense from a homophobic perspective, it already recreates what it itself is most afraid of: viz. being labeled, being misunderstood, being misidentified. Of course, it can be a relief to say “I’m gay” as it helps a boy or man fit into a cultural drawer or stereotype. But what would happen, if a boy or man when he comes out says “I’ve fallen in love with a man” rather than saying I’m gay? What if his parents responded by saying “You mean you’re gay?” And what if the son responded “No, I am saying I have fallen in love with a man.”

Furthermore, what would happen if a boy or man came to his parents or friends and said “Mom and Dad, I’m straight.” It would be silliness and in that silliness we recognize the silliness of the confession “I’m gay.” Of course, we don’t read it as silliness when a boy comes to us and says he’s fallen in love with a boy. Instead we think of it as denial. And by “we” I mean us—gay or straight.

So how can we understand Gurian’s insistence on this essential identifier “I’m gay.”?
Much of it has to do with the debate over whether sexual orientation and sexual identity are about biological unchangeables in the human body or whether they are about choices.
The implicit argument Gurian is making is that it is better to recognize the biological grounds of someone’s gayness rather than thinking of them as choices.


One way parents and communities deny the biological fact of homosexuality is to call it “a lifestyle choice.” When a boy or young man comes to them and says “I’m gay,” they say “You’ll change.” Most often, the gay adolescent knows this won’t happen, though he may try to make it happen for a while, even marrying and having children.

This makes intuitive sense, I believe, for if we entertain the idea that a boy or man is choosing whether to be with a man or a woman then we are possibly exposing him to an overwhelming wave of pressure to choose “right rather than wrong,” i.e., choose heterosexually rather than homosexually.

We all can probably sympathize with this position on some level. If we can assert and, possibly, prove that being gay is about a biological condition rather than a choice, then we have successfully rejected the possible interpretation that a gay man is choosing to do something bad. But, as many have pointed out before me, this means that we continue to accept our cultural view of homosexual encounters as bad. The only thing we’re saying is “I couldn’t help it.” It is somewhat like an insanity defense in a murder case. We all believe that killing another person is bad, but when insanity is involved, we back of and allow the person to say “I didn’t choose to kill that person, I just couldn’t help it.”


Again Gurian quoting a father:

Why do people go on about life-style choices? Who in his right mind would choose to be gay? You have a higher likelihood of getting AIDS, everyone hates you, it’s harder to get a job, your friends are dying all around you. My son didn’t choose (sic.) to be gay. Like so much else in life it was chosen for him.

I think we all can feel the passionate truth this father is working hard on expressing. My son, he is saying, didn’t choose this. He is not dumb. He is not stupid. He has his wits together. He is not a bad person. And in working out this passionate view of his son’s intelligence he is, more or less, beginning to think of his son as being handicapped. Being gay is not a choice, it is a biological fact and it is, as Gurian points out:

Genetically and chromosomally influenced, with certain families having far more homosexuals in their generational lineage than others; and it is wired into the brain. This wiring has been measured by researchers on autopsied brains.

Well, thank heavens that we have science to measure brains of dead people. And as it is en vogue in much of psychological literature these days, once the brain has been mentioned talk of the hypothalamus is not far off and we can expect a paragraph or two about brain-functioning. So Gurian continues:

The hypothalamus is the mission control of the brain. In the hypothalamus is a bundle of neurons called the “sexually dimorphic nucleus” or “two-shaped nucleus” by biochemists and neurobiologists. It controls, among other things, sexual orientation. In a gay person’s brain, this nucleus is half as large as the companion nucleus in a heterosexual person’s brain and although the research is far from complete it is now clear that somewhere between 5 and 10 percent of our boys have a smaller sexually dimporphic nucleus and a stronger biological tendency toward homosexuality.

I should, perhaps, explain that I grew up in a country that made it its business to autopsy people they were uncomfortable with in order to prove scientifically their biological and genetic inferiority. Aside from the very likely fact that Gurian’s summary is shoddy science I simply don’t care whether or not a person’s brain or parts thereof are smaller bigger, gone or have moved to another part of their body because I believe that at the end of it all we continue to say the same thing we sought so hard to avoid only more strongly: men who love men are handicapped, something in their brain is simply . . . smaller!

And so Gurian continues and with him so many other well-intentioned men who want to write about boys and men but cannot embrace their own potential to love men (platonically or sexually) and instead create a group of people to which they, of course, don’t belong. This is powerfully exemplified in Gurian’s next chapter—Loving our Gay Boys. Gurian waxes eloquent in his defense of gay boys and men. He emphasizes that gays are not more likely to be criminals of any sort. Gays even have unique gifts, he points out, gifts we non-gays would do well to appreciate. And, of course, we also hear about the Zuni tribe and the “special role of the berdache” Little does it matter that the berdache is not gay but represents a third gender that is male nor female. He goes on and on.


Prejudice Against Others vs. Prejudice Against Self


What is wrong here? Well, it’s easy to see that being liberated from prejudice against others might not result in a liberation of being prejudiced against oneself. While we might be able to convince ourselves that it is okay to be gay and to have a smaller sexually dimorphic nucleus, we might very well find ourselves unable to find that same thing acceptable in ourselves. I think what’s wrong and slips easily away if we don’t pay acute attention to it is that talking about homophobia and being against it is easy when it concerns other people. Yes, there are still enough people who haven’t quite graduated from “How to respect people who are different?”, Ethics 101. They should definitely continue learning about prejudice against others. But Gurian seems to have mastered that class just fine. What he doesn’t get into focus at all, in fact what he pushes away, is not the fear of others who are or might be gay but the fear that besets so many men in our culture that they themselves might be gay. For, unfortunately, the fence we draw around gays and their culture is, also one we then experience as an internal fence keeping us out of a realm of things, actions and thoughts that might, if externalized be thought of as gay. This, however, casts a large shadow not only over men who are thinking they might be gay, it particularly disables the possibility of men simply being close to and loving with each other. In one short sentence, identifying gays as gay and as different makes it harder, not easier, but harder for men to love each other. Of course, gays are off the hook now. They can do whatever they want, right? But what about the rest of us?


Scared Straight: Men Being Afraid of Each Other

The question then is, as Robert Minor—a professor of religious studies at the University of Kansas—describes it in his book Scared Straight, if we would not be served better by taking the term “homophobia” at its most basic definition, i.e., not as hatred against gays and gay culture, but as “fear of getting close to one’s own sex.” Listen to a longer quote from his book:

Even so, homophobia is a cultural condition, a major chemical found in the water that surrounds us. It is a conditioned characteristic of everyone regardless of sexual orientation. Essentially it has nothing to do with sexual orientation. Yet prejudices about, and discrimination and violence toward people perceived to be homosexual is a direct result of this conditioning because the existence and visibility of gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered people embodies the fear itself. (52-53)

Minor explains that homophobia is a “conditioned response” that pervades our culture in its entirety. He points out that our market economy which often advertises products that will bring us close to others is precisely based on the fear of others, i.e., homophobia, which the product in question is supposed to overcome.

How do we become homophobic? Minor believes that homophobia has very little to do with our sexual orientation and much more with how we look at and understand masculinity and femininity.

The definitions of manhood and womanhood homophobia enforces actually strip from us much of who we are as gender roles by which to define ourselves. I want to point out in the process of this discussion that oppression, prejudice, and discrimination directed toward gay people are in reality the mean for installing, maintaining, enforcing, and valuing gender roles which are our conditioned definitions of what a “real” man or woman is in our society. (53)

How does this work? Minor explains that it can happen in several ways, but that it often has something to with finding “causes [of homosexuality] that won’t disrupt the status quo.” Finding, for example, biological evidence that gays are different is less disruptive to the status quo than is what I am claiming in this paper and what Minor is claiming in his book, viz. that all men have the potential to act homophilic, i.e., with love for another man.

Similarly Minor points out that the sociobiology, if not interested so much in hard-wired processes is looking for inherent differences in men and women that might explain different sexual behaviors both toward each other and toward their own sex. Minor criticizes these studies heavily as

not at all helpful improving genetic origins. Instead they actually illustrate that by an early age gender conditioning has already taken hold. By thenj children have been conditioned relentlessly during all their waking hours in all their social environments for those four or five years. (55)

The compulsion to know the sex of a new human being, Minor charges, tell us that adults can’t relate to the baby as a full, open human being with all human possibilities ahead of it. In order to understand and react to the child, conditioned adults just have to know it’s sex. (56)

Once we know its sex, we can begin to pave for it the “straight” path on which it is supposed to be. And if, for some unforeseen reason, this straight path doesn’t work out for him, then there is a queer path which, as we have seen in Gurian’s account, is actually just as straight as the straight path, just smaller, just less traveled.

The term straight itself is problematic. Minor points out how that term narrows down what’s culturally acceptable in male and female behavior.

Straight is a good term for the tight-rope our society wants every person to walk—rigid, up-tight, narrow, self-protectively alert, highly strung. The word is used in anti-drug support groups to describe someone not “using.” It’s used in anti-crime programs which hope to scare youth into a law-abiding lifestyle. It’s been used as an equivalent for honesty in, “Are you being straight with me?” And it’s a part of the Boys Scout’s pledge to describe their standard of morality for real men, and now redefined to exclude gay men. It’s a broad designation for everyone who fits into the conditioning at all levels. Ideally, we are to look, act, think speak and feel “straight.” (124)


Broke Back Mountain: The Story of Two Gay Cowboys or Two Men Who Love Each Other?

So, the issue we are faced with in thinking about men loving men is that the suggestion alone is far from straight. Our culture has reached a point where it can accept straight heterosexuality and straight homosexuality. It can even accept those who sometimes choose to be with a man and sometimes with a woman. This is called straight bi-sexuality. What we have trouble with is “straight love” be that for a man or a woman. A man simply cannot express his love for another man, let alone demonstrate it by hugging him or kissing him or being sexual with him without having to call himself gay or at least bi. Men, therefore, often end up denying themselves the comfort and nurturance they can receive from another man for fear of being called or of thinking of themselves as gay.

This is the story of Broke Back Mountain. It is not the story of two gay cowboys who must learn how to survive in a homophobic society. Rather, it’s the story of two men who fall in love with each other and experience, in their desperate loneliness the nurturing comfort of another man’s presence. They cook for each other, wash for each other, sit together, and find that they’re drawn to each other. In an almost stereotypical way Ennis Del Mar says to Jack Twist after their first sexual encounter “you know I’m not queer.” Twist responds saying, “I know.” In a culture that has conditioned us to be open about “our gay boys” we read this statement as denial. Why not be straight forward we ask and admit that you are gay? Ennis Del Mar answers this question heroically, i.e., like a man: “If you can’t fix it, you gotta stand it.”

But what if “I know I’m not queer” is actually a true statement? What if this is not about finding out that deep inside Ennis and Jack are gay men? What if this is not a dormant truth or essence that could come only in the solitude and quiet of Broke Back Mountain? What if it is as simple as love? What if this love came out at Broke Back Mountain because in a homophobic society there is no other place than absolute solitude for two men to confess their love for each other.

How can it be that our culture cannot permit men to love each other without laying claim to their sexual orientation? Why is it, in other words, that we need to know (and for them to profess) their sexual orientation at the same time? If we could permit it, we would allow for a new kind of love, a love without sexual orientation, a love that simply gives and receives. But, if men were indeed permitted to express their love for each other in all ways possible they would indeed create a disruption of the status quo.


A Last Word About Boys

In his book Real Boys William Pollack describes how boys are kept away from each other and from the possibility of expressing genuine affection and love for one another. The

“gender straitjacket, combined with the absurd link that is often made between boyhood affection and adult male homosexuality, creates a restrictive environment. Boys are frequently pushed away from one another when they exude even a modicum of overt genuine love or affection for one another. This misguided perception—a form of homophobia—is perhaps most regrettable because it may lead us to undermine boys’ friendships before they’ve even taken hold. Ironically, this may, in turn, cause us to doubt whether boys are capable of intimate friendship. And [it might push] some boys to turn to drugs and alcohol, substances that temporarily mute the shame they feel about their genuine longings for friendship, love and affection.


It is clear, I believe, what Pollack wants to say in this paragraph. Boys’ need for affection should be acknowledged and permitted. Allowing it will perhaps even lower their likelihood to become aggressive, drug-dependent or alcoholics later in live. Not allowing this would be, Pollack points out, homophobic. This all makes sense. Yet, the ghost of homophobia, of not allowing men to love each other is well alive even in his lines. For the argument really is that boys’ affection with one another is not about adult male homosexuality. This, of course, means we shouldn’t worry about boys’ affectionate behavior with each other because it’s not like it’s going to end up as homosexual behavior.

This means to me that as long as we think of homosexuality, of gays, as the other—whether it’s the other we need to appreciate or the other we need to avoid—our own thinking and acting will be tormented from within with the fear of becoming the other. We will therefore never be able to love another man because, while we might appreciate and accept someone else’s gayness, our fear of being gay will not permit us affectionately expressive behavior towards other men.

July 30th, 2007: Men and Work—Escape and Stranglehold?


It would be obvious to expect that what Kathleen Gerson calls “Contending Visions of Manhood” would also be visible in the work domain. First of, what are those contending visions? Most obviously it is the vision of a man as the sole provider for a household, a vision that is, more than ever, in competition with other visions of men. Men might choose to share household obligations and provider obligations with their partner. Men might also choose not to work at all and rely on their partner to provide for them. Another group of men might choose only to provide for themselves and live without the responsibility of a family and dependents. Gerson’s contention is that as men face these different visions of themselves in the work and social world, they are more likely than not to act diversely in response. Gerson argues convincingly that men are less and less likely to simply emulate the jobs and employment situations they witnessed in their parents. Rather, what they saw in their childhoods is merely a “point of departure” for complex and ever-changing attitude towards work.

Men’s Changing Commitments to Work

In her book No Man’s Land: Men’s Changing Commitments to Work Gerson gives an account of how men’s attitudes towards work have changed since the rise of feminism and women’s increasing presence as part of the work-force. One of Gerson’s central themes is the so-called “decline” of the so-called “provider ethic”.

To make sense of men’s lives, we first need to lay some myths to rest. Consider the belief that breadwinning is a traditional or natural pattern with a long legacy. In fact, men’s behavior and our wider cultural ideals about manhood have not consistently conformed to this model throughout American history. To the contrary, the idea that men should provide sole or primary economic support for their households in lieu of participating in domestic work did not develop until the emergence of industrial capitalism and only gradually came to describe the behavior of most men. However much some may mourn its decline, the good-provider ethic has not been a continuous historical pattern. It was the product of social forces that converged in one fleeting era, and its reign as a predominant form of behavior and a prevailing cultural ethic has been relatively short-lived.


Gerson finds that how men work and what their commitments to their work are, is a complicated process not easily understood by way of reference to a cultural stereotype like the good-provider ethic. She criticizes the more causally oriented developmental scenarios of psychoanalytic and social learning theories for being unable to “understand the degree of contradiction in the socialization context of little boys, for not adequately distinguishing between the context and the child’s reaction this context and for overlooking the possibility of change in adulthood.

I am convinced that Gerson’s argument is correct. Men have not only begun to diversify their work-choices, they are also much more willing to consider jobs that bring less of an income (as long as their spouse can provide what they cannot). However, Gerson’s argument does not convince me that men’s attitudes towards work itself have changed. In other words, men’s sense of self and self-worth continues to be wrapped up with the work they do in ways that elude our grasp, if we only look at the different work-choices they make. Yet in other words, men continue to have a hard time with not working. It is difficult for them to take a break. If they do, they are socially ousted as lazy, good-for nothing and generally worthless.

What does Work Mean to Boys?

I am not sure I can answer this question in the general way I have asked it. However, with some individuals in mind, I believe I can answer it more specifically. Given the attitudes towards work of boys I see in my practice and in my own family, I believe that it is possible to make two general distinctions: There is the kind of work boys choose for themselves and there is the work we ask them to do. We normally don’t call the former work, rather we call it play. In this area a boy might choose to build a fort, saw apart a few old chairs and make them into a table, glue together a bunch of plastic-bottles to create his own unique robots. In the latter area we’re more concerned with parental ideas and expectations—rather than choices—of “work” their children should do (chores, errands, etc.).

Here is an exchange with my son about this issue:

M: Remember the time you built all those robots from plastic bottles?

J: Yes, that was fun!

M: Yeah, it was. Do you remember what the most important thing was for you when they were done? Do you remember what you expected from us?

J: (Thinks for a moment) That you wouldn’t just say “put them away.”

M: Right, you had them all displayed in the kitchen for a few weeks before we put them
away because they started to stink.

J: Oh, I had forgotten about that.

M: Do you think you also expected us to say how great those robots were and how well you put them together?

J: (Hesitates for a moment) Not really; perhaps a little. But the most important thing is that they could be there for a while.

M: So, what is the difference between that kind of work you did and when I ask you to do something like picking up all the sticks on the lawn so I can mow?

J: The first one is my choice, the second you tell me to do it.

M: Right and what do you expect from me when you’re done picking up the sticks?

J: I expect you to praise (loben) me.

M: Oh, I see. That’s quite different isn’t it?

J: Yeah, that’s quite different.

Granted, this is but an exchange with my own nine-year old son. Eluding all concerns about scientific validity, I conclude from it nevertheless: praise serves to stabilize and reinforce labor done in response to external expectations of others. Praise is not a necessary ingredient of a self-chosen work process. Rather, in such a process, the emphasis is on acceptance and tolerance of the product. I further conclude that the idea that we need to initiate our sons into a system of praise means that we are in the process of preparing them for a life of labor and work that is not self-chosen in the way the tasks of play are chosen. Praise, like money, can be a bait that serves to keep others doing what they’re doing because it serves me.




My Introduction to Work.

I am the son of a sole-provider father. Yes, it is true, when I was only seven and my sister five, my mother did go back to work. She trained as a nurse and began working over-night shifts at a hospital 30 minutes away from our house. Her income was insignificant on the large scale of our family needs, however, and so, my father’s income from being first a teacher and later a principal always had the weight and import of that of a sole-provider income. My mother, I believe, very much felt how little her income seemed to matter and she liked to point out how her income (which she saved not in a bank-account, but in a small box in her wardrobe) had bought us a new couch or new carpeting for the living-room.

My mother has always worked hard, my father did not work, he taught and was a principal. He was, as I said, a sole-provider, but you might have noticed, I didn’t say he worked. I said he was a teacher. My mother was the one who worked. This is not a spoof on teachers and how they don’t work. It is also not a reckoning with my father’s work-ethic. Rather, it is to say that as a man, the son of my parents, I have to say that I did not learn much about work from my father. Most of it came from watching my mother.

My father would leave the house every morning at around 7:25am and return by 2pm. He would have lunch and then take a 1-2 hour nap. After his nap he would sometimes go grocery shopping or mow the lawn. Often he would just make himself a cup of coffee and read the paper or a book. Sometimes, while he was still mostly teaching, he would have a set of exams to read through in the evenings. But that was rare. He never rushed.

My mother, on the other hand, always seemed rushed. She would take short breaks between work at home and work at the hospital. I remember her sighing and moaning often when she was doing house-work. She always said she didn’t like her house-work and did whatever she could to reduce it to a minimum (short of hiring someone to do it for her).

Interestingly, 12 years ago my father was diagnosed with a bleeding ulcer. He almost died from it. He was stressed, despite his “easy” life as a principal. We always knew he was. Managing a group of up to 40 teachers, dealing with their fears and differing senses of fairness was not easy for him. He hated their in-fighting and their need for him to be their mediator. As a family we had shared stories about hearing my father grinding his teeth in his sleep. It was an eerie sound as if the whole house was creaking and shifting. And, perhaps, in a way of speaking, it was. When he took as many naps as he did and seemed to stop working at 2pm, he simply tried to balance his life with extreme measures of stress-reduction when he wasn’t at school.

My mother, hard-working in a different way, found her balance in taking smoking breaks and later also taking short breaks for a “vino” a glass of wine or sherry. I consider both my parents victims of their attitudes towards work and their powerlessness to control the way work worked its way into their lives.

Work: The Mystical Place
I’d be curious to know from you what images the title of this month’s lecture brings to mind. If you are like me, you are imagining men who go to work. You are thinking of men who travel a short or long distance to get to their place of employment. You are thinking, too, of men who are spending a significant amount of time at this place of employment every day. You might also be imagining them in a place strangely forbidding to other family members. When the man leaves the home to go to work invisible doors close behind him through which only faint noises and sketchy images come back to tell us about his work.

More often than not you will also imagine this man at work as someone who is somehow accountable and responsible for someone else. His work is not just for him. It is a service of some kind. He is expected to give himself to and for this service. When the doors of this strange place called work open again, the man you imagine might come out hungry, grumpy, with a head-ache, a problem face or simply exhausted. You might imagine him pouring himself a drink, reading the paper, watching television or even playing with the children or talking to his partner. But he just doesn’t seem the same man that he was over the weekend. Or worse: He doesn’t seem to be himself ever.

Work has done it again: It has taken him away from himself, unable, it seems, to give him back to himself at the end of the day.

Let’s talk about some things you’re not imagining as you think about the title.

When you hear the title “men and work” you are likely not imagining a man who goes grocery-shopping. You’re also not imagining a man who is doing yard-work. You don’t bring up images of a man who fixes up the house, you are not thinking of a man as working when he interacts with the children, fixes their bikes or dinner for them. And while you would readily concede that all these things could be called work, you wouldn’t call them “working”. If someone called for this man and you picked up the phone, you wouldn’t say “he is working” or even “he is at work” you would say “he is mowing the lawn” “playing with the kids”, etc..

This is not to even mention the things you don’t imagine at all like a man changing diapers, scrubbing the kitchen floor or buying clothes for and with the children.


The Double Standard of Work: What is and what is not work

American men and women (and with them likely most industrialized nations in the West) have managed to divide work neatly into a set of activities they call work and another set they do not call work. However, while women, largely through the forces of feminism, have been able to claim house-hold related activities as work, men have not been able to claim the same title for the things they do in the house. It is not so much that men don’t work at home. Rather, it is that their home-activities lack the status of “work”.

To say that a man is working or at work is, it seems to me, to say that he is engaged in something larger than himself. He is in a way moving the world, making the world a better place and, in so doing, bringing home the sustenance that is necessary for his family to survive. This is another way of saying that a man who just works for himself (i.e., who produces things that are simply for his own consumption) or a man whose work productivity does not benefit a family or similar group, that such a man really is not working at all.

There is an underlying mythic component to work. Work must not be for itself,i.e., for the man who is doing it; rather, it must be for a purpose outside of himself.

Listen to John Eldridge as he describes this point:

The way a man’s life unfolds nowadays tends to drive his heart into remote regions of the soul. Endless hours at a computer screen, selling shoes at the mall, meetings, memos, phone calls. The business world—where the majority of American men live and die—requires a man to be efficient and punctual. Corporate policies and procedures are designed with one aim: To harness a man to the plough and make him produce.

Eldridge continues to say that ultimately a man’s soul refuses to be harnessed in this way. Men, he believes, will realize that they are not a “mechanism” or cog in an apparatus from which they cannot escape. While I believe that men certainly have the potential to realize these things and while I believe that it is within their power to disconnect themselves from merely being seen as mechanisms, I cannot be as optimistic as Eldridge I believe that men are deeply “hooked” into this way of thinking. Without some serious re-thinking of their own role and aspirations, of their values and things they might heretofore have considered as virtues, they will not be able to distance themselves enough to become free.


The Lure of Work

Why is it that men seem so easily drawn and hooked by work? Why is it that men seem to have a hard time imagining themselves in a place of rest and comfort, perhaps a hammock in the summer or a comfortable chair or couch in the winter? What happens when men just sit, by themselves or with other men, to their sense of well-being and self-worth? Somehow the promise of work must succeed in convincing men that it is worth their while to sacrifice themselves to it. Work promises, I believe, what men look for so desperately, a sense of pride, worth, being a hero showing endurance, skill and capability. Work for men is a rite of passage and a daily ritual without which they will never be seen or valued as real men.

I know very few men who know how to be lazy. It is almost as if laziness is an art, a skill which to accomplish is a lofty, if not impossible, goal. Of course, I wish there were a better word for it. Lazy sounds so . . . well, lazy!

This may be hard to understand. Aren’t there plenty of men whose spouses complain about their men’s laziness? Aren’t there enough men who seem to avoid tasks at home and at work that seem to hard, too complicated, too demanding? Yes, there are plenty of those. However, I tend to think of their alleged laziness not so much as the kind I have in mind here. Their’s is a kind of reaction formation. A rebellion of sorts against the relentlessness of work itself. The laziness I have in mind is the kind that might be called joyful and rich inactivity.



The Silence about Work

Most of the men who come to talk to me don’t talk about their work. Of those who do talk about their work only a small percentage will talk about content issues: problems with colleagues or a boss, not being able to meet a dead-line, competition with others. Most will let things suffice by mentioning what it is they’re doing. No one, so far, has ever talked to me about not wanting to work. No one has ever said to me “all I want to do is go on a long vacation”. Similarly, no one has mentioned anything about lounging around on a weekend or holiday, wanting to be lazy or needing to forget work. As one of my clients put it:

“Not wanting to go to work tells the whole world I am depressed. But I don’t want the whole world to know this. So I keep working, I might even work more just to hide how I’m really doing. ”

At the same, not talking about their work also means that few people have talked to me about how passionate they are about their work. I am waiting still for the man who will come to my office and tell me he is energized and rejuvenated by his work; a man who will say my work makes me a better husband, partner and father. This would also be a man who can say “my work is meaningful beyond the income I receive from it. It is meaningful not only because it and the income it receives serve others, but also—and most importantly—because it serves me.

Interestingly, too, it does not matter whether those men are single, married, in relationships, whether they have a traditional house-hold with strict role-divisions, whether they are single providers or part of a dual-provider household, it doesn’t matter, if they inherited a three-generation family business, worked their way up from washing dishes to being millionaires or if their work just fell into their lap by accident, white-collar, blue-collar, farmer, driver, industry worker, teacher, therapist. . . they don’t talk about it.

The phrases “he is at work” or “he is working” veil one of the best-kept secrets in this culture, it is the secret of how he might feel about his work. It also veils and hides from us his friends, relatives and extended family what he is doing and how he copes with what he is doing. The fact that we’re so clueless is only made worse by the fact that, should we ask a man this question—how he feels about his work—he will in all likelihood answer something along the lines of “oh, I love my work”. He will lie about it. Ask a man how his day at work has gone and he will most likely answer “great.”

Yes, in its most general form his love for his work might be true. But this generality serves only to disguise the details and the real dynamic of stress, hate, tiredness that accompany most men’s employment situations. The generality of a man’s love of his job and work serves to distract us from the reality of the drudgery, boredom and/or pressure he feels every day to succeed at his job. With the aide of such generality we can avoid seeing that many men feel like slaves at their jobs, incomes not withstanding, because, ultimately, how they work and what they produce is not for them.


Work as Alienation from Self

The economist Karl Marx recognized this over a hundred years ago when he began to articulate the consequences of a shift in labor and the need for laborers in an increasingly industrial society. He called what he saw the process of alienation or estrangement :

A worker becomes only poorer the more wealth he produces and the more power his productiveness attains. The worker himself turns into a good the more goods he produces. The more what he produces gains in value, the more he himself loses his value as a human being. Work produces not only goods, rather it produces itself and the worker as goods.

Marx continues saying:

That this doesn’t mean anything else but that the worker puts himself into his work and in the process encounters what he has produced as a strange, different from him, object which contains parts of him (because he produced it) that are now no longer accessible to him.[1]
Marx’s basic point: when we work we lose ourselves. Losing ourselves through work is something that is not easily retrievable, perhaps not at all retrievable.


Work as Moral Pressure

But this connection between work, objectification and loss of self is not even the only aspect of work that holds us captive to it. What is even worse are the moral aspects of work that have made us into slaves. The philosopher Nietzsche, almost a contemporary of Marx’ diagnosed with unwavering clarity the “breathless haste of work” which has spread among Americans not unlike their desire for gold during the times of the gold-rush. This haste has already infected Europe, he believes. One is now ashamed of long periods of rest. To be caught in thought ( rather than be productive) will cause a conflict of conscience; we live like people who feel they might constantly miss something. What suffers most from this haste and this urge to work and to still one’s conscience is our ability to simply be with others. “We don’t have time or energy” to pursue conversation and all otium (i.e., free-time, leisure, ease, peace, repose). The hours of repose are rare and when we are permitted to have them we want to simply stretch out and do nothing. When we think up ways in which to please ourselves we please ourselves like slaves, quickly and, preferably, without losing touch with our work. Nietzsche recognizes that already the inclination to be happy has changed to being called the “need for relaxation”. As it is becoming a need it is falling prey to a tendency to be ashamed of itself. It could be, Nietzsche muses, that we will no longer be able to enjoy our inclination towards a vita comtemplativa (i.e., a contemplative life) without a hefty amount of self-loathing and bad-conscience.

So far about Nietzsche. I would be surprised to know that there is anybody here that will not recognize himself (or herself) partially or entirely in these descriptions. Perhaps that recognition is less cognitive than it is emotional. We know something is off with the way we feel and go about working, but we can’t quite put our finger on it. Doesn’t every body have to work? Nobody else seems to complain about their work, I must be wrong feeling the way I do. Perhaps I need another job, one that helps me make even more money, to feel better about myself. Perhaps, I need to sell my soul completely to feel successful?


Work and Addiction

In my opinion, men are highly susceptible to this kind of thinking. It is a thinking that has addictive traits. There is sense of compulsion in it. And when we begin to see the compulsion we understand why work, to many men, feels like slavery. They feel compelled to do it. The problem, of course, is that some of the compulsion comes from within, not the outside.

The author John Lee is known for his work with men, especially his work with men in recovery. He understands men’s issues with addiction and specifically their problems with work-addiction as interrelated. Ultimately, he believes, addiction is a result of our failure to recognize the child in children and the child in adults. This child, Lee believes, is in constant need for praise and acknowledgement of what he or she is doing. However, we often find ourselves unable to praise our children and adult relatives and friends in truly sustaining ways. Being addicted to work is, from that perspective, a relentless hunt for praise and recognition. Often when this addiction does not produce the desired results, i.e., the satisfaction and peace we so need to survive, other addictions follow. We begin to supplement the lack of praise with alcohol, drugs, etc.

Hope for Men and Boys
If we put this together with the many studies that show that it is especially boys who are not praised enough, that it is especially boys who are, to the contrary, scolded for not paying attention, being too antsy, loud and un-concentrated, we might understand why boys and men in particular seem to pursue praise in the form of hard, self-denying and ultimately self-destructive ways of existing, including work.

However, praise alone is not the recipe for a healthy attitude towards work either. Keeping in mind the interview with my son, it seems reasonable to say that praise is itself a problematic issue when it comes as a stabilizing force for work a boy or man really doesn’t want to do, or doesn’t want to do in this particular way.

Are boys perhaps more likely to become sick and fall prey to the vicissitudes of praise?
What might change, I wonder, if culturally we did indeed begin to nurture male infants and toddlers the way we nurture females? Would strong and rich nurturing and continuous encouragement to find their own true selves rather than fitting in with others’ expectations perhaps allow boys and men to find new approaches to work. Would these approaches leave their sense of self, their sense of others and their health intact? Would work for men actually turn into self-actualization rather than alienation? How would our understanding of boys in class-rooms change, if we could be less concerned with them fitting in and more interested in helping them find their own creative source of work energy? Could we allow ourselves to trust boys’ intrinsic wisdom and knowledge of self? Could we put faith in their ability to use their wisdom to find what intrigues them and to build on that? As my son Jacob pointed out: such boys and men are less in need of praise as they need tolerance and space to see their products, the results of their work, be accepted into the family, class-room or group of which they are a part.



[1] Der Arbeiter wird um so ärmer, je mehr Reichtum er produziert, je mehr seine Produktion an Macht und Umfang zunimmt. Der Arbeiter wird eine um so wohlfeilere Ware, je mehr Waren er schafft. Mit der Verwertung der Sachenwelt nimmt die Entwertung der Menschenwelt in direktem Verhältnis zu. Die Arbeit produziert nicht nur Waren; sie produziert sich selbst und den Arbeiter als eine Ware, und zwar in dem Verhältnis, in welchem sie überhaupt Waren produziert.
Dieses Faktum drückt weiter nichts aus als: Der Gegenstand, den die Arbeit produziert, ihr Produkt, tritt ihr als ein fremdes Wesen, als eine von dem Produzenten unabhängige Macht gegenüber. Das Produkt der Arbeit ist die Arbeit, die sich in einem Gegenstand fixiert, sachlich gemacht hat, es ist die Vergegenständlichung der Arbeit. Die Verwirklichung der Arbeit ist ihre Vergegenständlichung. Diese Verwirklichung der Arbeit erscheint in dem nationalökonomischen Zustand als Entwirklichung des Arbeiters, die Vergegenständlichung als Verlust und Knechtschaft des Gegenstandes, die Aneignung als Entfremdung, als Entäußerung.



Appendix (9/2009)

An article by Alfie Kohn investigates the strategies of praisin/withholding of praise and love as a form of helping our children learn discipline. I have copied the article and am pasting it into the appendix for this paper:



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September 15, 2009
Mind
When a Parent’s ‘I Love You’ Means ‘Do as I Say’
By ALFIE KOHN
More than 50 years ago, the psychologist Carl Rogers suggested that simply loving our children wasn’t enough. We have to love them unconditionally, he said — for who they are, not for what they do.

As a father, I know this is a tall order, but it becomes even more challenging now that so much of the advice we are given amounts to exactly the opposite. In effect, we’re given tips in conditional parenting, which comes in two flavors: turn up the affection when they’re good, withhold affection when they’re not.

Thus, the talk show host Phil McGraw tells us in his book “Family First” (Free Press, 2004) that what children need or enjoy should be offered contingently, turned into rewards to be doled out or withheld so they “behave according to your wishes.” And “one of the most powerful currencies for a child,” he adds, “is the parents’ acceptance and approval.”

Likewise, Jo Frost of “Supernanny,” in her book of the same name (Hyperion, 2005), says, “The best rewards are attention, praise and love,” and these should be held back “when the child behaves badly until she says she is sorry,” at which point the love is turned back on.

Conditional parenting isn’t limited to old-school authoritarians. Some people who wouldn’t dream of spanking choose instead to discipline their young children by forcibly isolating them, a tactic we prefer to call “time out.” Conversely, “positive reinforcement” teaches children that they are loved, and lovable, only when they do whatever we decide is a “good job.”

This raises the intriguing possibility that the problem with praise isn’t that it is done the wrong way — or handed out too easily, as social conservatives insist. Rather, it might be just another method of control, analogous to punishment. The primary message of all types of conditional parenting is that children must earn a parent’s love. A steady diet of that, Rogers warned, and children might eventually need a therapist to provide the unconditional acceptance they didn’t get when it counted.

But was Rogers right? Before we toss out mainstream discipline, it would be nice to have some evidence. And now we do.

In 2004, two Israeli researchers, Avi Assor and Guy Roth, joined Edward L. Deci, a leading American expert on the psychology of motivation, in asking more than 100 college students whether the love they had received from their parents had seemed to depend on whether they had succeeded in school, practiced hard for sports, been considerate toward others or suppressed emotions like anger and fear.

It turned out that children who received conditional approval were indeed somewhat more likely to act as the parent wanted. But compliance came at a steep price. First, these children tended to resent and dislike their parents. Second, they were apt to say that the way they acted was often due more to a “strong internal pressure” than to “a real sense of choice.” Moreover, their happiness after succeeding at something was usually short-lived, and they often felt guilty or ashamed.

In a companion study, Dr. Assor and his colleagues interviewed mothers of grown children. With this generation, too, conditional parenting proved damaging. Those mothers who, as children, sensed that they were loved only when they lived up to their parents’ expectations now felt less worthy as adults. Yet despite the negative effects, these mothers were more likely to use conditional affection with their own children.

This July, the same researchers, now joined by two of Dr. Deci’s colleagues at the University of Rochester, published two replications and extensions of the 2004 study. This time the subjects were ninth graders, and this time giving more approval when children did what parents wanted was carefully distinguished from giving less when they did not.

The studies found that both positive and negative conditional parenting were harmful, but in slightly different ways. The positive kind sometimes succeeded in getting children to work harder on academic tasks, but at the cost of unhealthy feelings of “internal compulsion.” Negative conditional parenting didn’t even work in the short run; it just increased the teenagers’ negative feelings about their parents.

What these and other studies tell us, if we’re able to hear the news, is that praising children for doing something right isn’t a meaningful alternative to pulling back or punishing when they do something wrong. Both are examples of conditional parenting, and both are counterproductive.

The child psychologist Bruno Bettelheim, who readily acknowledged that the version of negative conditional parenting known as time-out can cause “deep feelings of anxiety,” nevertheless endorsed it for that very reason. “When our words are not enough,” he said, “the threat of the withdrawal of our love and affection is the only sound method to impress on him that he had better conform to our request.”

But the data suggest that love withdrawal isn’t particularly effective at getting compliance, much less at promoting moral development. Even if we did succeed in making children obey us, though — say, by using positive reinforcement — is obedience worth the possible long-term psychological harm? Should parental love be used as a tool for controlling children?

Deeper issues also underlie a different sort of criticism. Albert Bandura, the father of the branch of psychology known as social learning theory, declared that unconditional love “would make children directionless and quite unlovable” — an assertion entirely unsupported by empirical studies. The idea that children accepted for who they are would lack direction or appeal is most informative for what it tells us about the dark view of human nature held by those who issue such warnings.

In practice, according to an impressive collection of data by Dr. Deci and others, unconditional acceptance by parents as well as teachers should be accompanied by “autonomy support”: explaining reasons for requests, maximizing opportunities for the child to participate in making decisions, being encouraging without manipulating, and actively imagining how things look from the child’s point of view.

The last of these features is important with respect to unconditional parenting itself. Most of us would protest that of course we love our children without any strings attached. But what counts is how things look from the perspective of the children — whether they feel just as loved when they mess up or fall short.

Rogers didn’t say so, but I’ll bet he would have been glad to see less demand for skillful therapists if that meant more people were growing into adulthood having already felt unconditionally accepted.

Alfie Kohn is the author of 11 books about human behavior and education, including “Unconditional Parenting” and “Punished by Rewards.”



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