Do men even matter?

It’s fair to say who, what, how or when someone ‘is’ something doesn’t ever enter my head.

Since my own struggles as a young man coming to terms with who I was, constantly in and out of hospital and unable to do ‘boy’ things, I’ve been a master of taking people as they are in the here and now.

It won’t come as a shock to learn I’m pleased I can’t look on social media without seeing content about empowering someone who has been unfairly treated. Communities that are underrepresented at board level or women who are substantially less well rewarded than their straight, white, middle aged and middle class male counterparts.

I think it’s bloody wonderful. For far too long, those who don’t fit the conventional mould have had the rough end of the stick.

You may be surprised to learn then, that I’m having a massive struggle with the diversity and inclusion movement right now, the reason being the seeming trend towards excluding and often apparent demonization of these very men. It appears that populist thinking has made these folks the bad guys, and I’m not convinced that moves the argument forward.

Now I get this is a risky topic, and I get I may end up with a tirade of angry people who read no further and post on my feed saying I’m a bigot. But to be honest, I don’t think that’s good enough. If you don’t engage people where they are, you’re kidding yourself if you think they’re going to be motivated to move from their position. In my experience, you must build bridges before people can cross the rivers that divide them.

Explain yourself Barry, and VERY quickly…or you’ll need a shovel!

I recently attended a fantastic event in London run by The School of Life, where Harriet Harman introduced Jo Brand as her icon. It was brilliant, enlightening, educational and as you might imagine, really good humoured.

At the end, the audience questions resulted in some amazing discussion; yet try as I might, I couldn’t get my thoughts beyond the burning bridge that was on my mind:

what about the men? Surely there is something that needs to be done to bring the guys along? We should be creating an inclusive environment where everyone is valued and respected, right?

Eventually, the woman behind me beat me to it with pretty much the same question. And then the kick in the proverbial(s) came from the stage, which went something like: “I’ve done my bit, and if men have a problem, they need to sort it out by themselves. Why should we do it?”

The female majority in the audience seemed totally supportive of the response. I, meanwhile, felt increasingly wobbled by their energetic nodding and found the tone divisive, dismissive and disrespectful.

Everything I stand for, about bringing people together for the greater good, was being challenged. I felt isolated and almost embarrassed by my own presence. I suddenly knew what it was like to be in the minority, and it wasn’t good at all. I sat there thinking “Is this how women have felt for decades or even centuries? Because if it is, to make guys feel this way now because you’ve done your bit, is not going to progress the notion of inclusion and equality in any way. Right now, I’m hunkering down to protect myself.”

What does this experience mean for me?

I work with many of these men; guys who feel isolated and unsure of their role in society; men who are at the top of their game career-wise, but living in another universe emotionally. Men who, when I ask how they "feel" about something, start their answer with “I think…” or “I believe…”

So, I came away with a renewed determination to give men space to explore and share what’s going on for them, so we can finally get gender issues off the table and enjoy real inclusion.

For guys brought up in an era when womanising, machismo and gender inequality wasn’t even up for debate, and whose formative years resulted in never learning how to connect to your emotional side, I hear you. It’s really hard to navigate your way through life without reaching a point where you feel pretty excluded, washed up and without purpose. And I don’t feel that’s ok. So call me.

And if you’re someone who knows a man who fears losing their edge, or has no sense of what's next for him in his life, please help me destigmatise asking for help by supportively sending him my way.

I feel we’re all in this together, and I want other men to feel OK asking for help so they can learn how to feel that way too.

I work with professionals who feel they're losing their edge, and have nobody to talk to they can genuinely trust without judgement.

They've followed the career path to the letter despite the politics, and are tired of life being ruled by the corporate machine.

Yet I don't believe they need fixing; they're already successful and renowned for what they bring. I do know, however, they are often lonely and unsure what's next for them, and I know this because I've been there. 

Email me at [email protected] to arrange a confidential discussion about your situation and how I can help you in just one day.