COMPARE AND CONTRAST.

Pajamas Media contributor Jamie K. Wilson offers one system of belief under the rubric of "toxic masculinity."

Walk into almost any school today, and you’ll see it: boys being told, in a hundred subtle ways, that their very nature is a problem. They’re too loud. Too restless. Too competitive. Too aggressive. If they’re not sitting still and coloring quietly, something must be wrong with them.

The phrases we use are damning — toxic masculinity, patriarchy, problematic behavior. And the message comes through loud and clear: There is something inherently bad about being a boy.

It doesn’t stop at the classroom. Media and advertising make fathers look like bumbling idiots. Hollywood pushes anti-masculine agendas, praising movies with girlbosses and trans messaging. Publishers, under pressure to meet ideological quotas, push books that prize grievance or identity politics over adventure and responsibility. Contemporary children’s series feature main characters who are passive, self-absorbed, or perpetually “discovering” new identities — while the daring, loyal, adventurous boy hero has all but vanished.

Taken together, schools, teachers, culture, and publishing form an echo chamber that tells boys, You are guilty before you’ve even begun.

Narrative psychology would predict the result. This is the field that studies how the stories we tell ourselves shape who we are. People build their identities like a story, with characters, conflicts, and resolutions drawn from the tales around them.

When you hand children a story of shame, they internalize it. Some will suppress their instincts until they can barely function. Others will rebel by embracing destructive caricatures of manhood, because that is the only model of strength they see. And some learn to hate themselves and their bodies so much that they embrace transgender ideology, believing escape from boyhood is their only hope of acceptance.

Either way, their true nature is submerged, drowned under a world that demands they be tame, quiet, compliant — and, frankly, feminine. This isn’t just bad for boys; it’s bad for all of us. Civilization needs both halves of humanity, masculine and feminine, yin and yang. Cut one off, and the whole body limps.

Common Dreams contributor Ishimwe Felicien offers a second belief system.

According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, suicide is now the second leading cause of death among males aged 15-29, and suicide rates among young men in the US have risen by roughly a third since 2010. Across much of Africa, where I work as a public health and gender equality practitioner, men make up the vast majority of suicide deaths, and in Lesotho, the country with the highest suicide rate globally, men are dying at three times the rate of women.

Rigid gender roles may be to blame. Masculine representations rooted in ideals that reward toughness, emotional suppression, and dominance are quietly accelerating a mental health crisis among young men. These rigid norms don’t simply discourage boys from seeking help; they actively shame vulnerability, equate emotional expression with weakness, and isolate those who are struggling. In cultures where being “a real man” means staying silent, mental distress festers in the dark. Unless we confront and transform these harmful ideals, any global response to youth mental health will be incomplete—and too late for many.

Those two belief systems might well be irreconcilable.  Mr Wilson proposes exposing young boys to those masculine representations.  "Little boys don’t need moral lectures—they need imagination, loyalty, and persistence."

[Stories that] teach boys that their energy and strength are not shameful but essential — when channeled through honor and sacrifice. They remind girls that courage, loyalty, and virtue are not limited to one sex. They give both boys and girls heroes to look up to, adventures to imitate, and virtues to practice. And parents and grandparents can discuss the stories later, ensuring their young ones absorb the great lessons inherent in these works.

This is also why publishing new works matters. The classics are irreplaceable, but children deserve fresh stories that carry the same moral weight.

In Africa, though, there's too much honor and sacrifice and not enough feminism.

This means introducing gender-transformative education that teaches emotional literacy and normalizes help seeking as strength. We need male-friendly, culturally grounded safe spaces in schools, sports clubs, faith groups, and online where boys can be vulnerable without judgment. Mental health professionals must adopt gender transformative approaches that understand masculinity’s impact on behavior.

Above all, media and storytelling must shift the narrative so boys grow up knowing that feeling is not failure. Imagine a generation of boys brave enough to ask for help, a future where strength includes compassion, and manhood means connection, not isolation. This is the future we owe boys and men. No young man should have to choose between silence and survival.

It seems, though, that it's the absence of opportunities for boys to become men, whether by the machinations of the Caring Classes in the United States and other rich countries, or by the absence of emergence and market economies in Africa, that is behind the troubles with boys.

In many parts of Africa, young men grow up under intense pressure to become providers, protectors, and problem-solvers. These roles and expectations are deeply tied to their perceived worth. But when systemic barriers like poverty, unemployment, or lack of education make these ideals unreachable, the emotional toll can be devastating. With mental health services scarce and stigma-free spaces almost nonexistent, many suffer in silence.

Instead of seeking support through therapy or confiding in someone they trust, many young men cope with inner distress by turning to alcohol, aggression, or silent withdrawal. These internalized ideals of “staying strong” act like slow-burning fuses. Left unaddressed, emotional strain builds until it erupts often into breakdowns, which spiral into isolation, and eventually, into tragedy. Many of these young men appear perfectly “fine” on the surface, attending school, church, or work, making it easy for their pain to go unnoticed, even by those closest to them. While many girls and young women are increasingly accessing mental health resources even in under-resourced settings, young men remain notably absent from these services.

I don't know, maybe if you stop telling boys that they're toxic, you'll get better-adjusted men.