Masculinity, Morality & The Problem of Identity

In his cult-classic book The Way of Men, CHEST Co-founder Jack Donovan made an essential distinction in the philosophy of masculinity when he laid out the difference between being a good man, and being good at being a man:

“There is a difference between being a good man and being good at being a man. Being a good man has to do with ideas about morality, ethics, religion, and behaving productively within a given civilizational structure. Being good at being a man is about showing other men that you are the kind of guy they’d want on their team if the shit hits the fan.”

As the above quote implies, this distinction is a matter of being, or what is called ontology (a branch of philosophy that studies concepts such as existence, being, identity, and reality). To be a good man and to be good at being a man both have to do with the current state of a man’s existence in the world. To say a man is good at being a man is to say that he is being a man well. And to say he is being a man well is to say he is fulfilling some kind of intended goal or purpose for his existence.

While it is certainly true that being good at being a man is different from being a good man, any definition of being a good man (even in the strictly moral sense) must include being good at being a man. To understand why that is the case, we must look at the problem of identity.

The Problem of Identity

Most people have probably never taken a moment to ponder what makes things what they are. When we look at an object, we tend to just know what it is without having to actually understand how our brain translates material into form. This is a rather cliche example in philosophical circles, but what exactly makes a chair a chair? Is it the shape? The size? What it’s made out of? It seems like the most natural inclination to reduce things down to their physical characteristics — their shape, size, weight, color, etc all tell us, in a sense, what those things are. Unfortunately, solving the problem of identity is not that simple.

When we look at an object such as a chair, we tend to see just one thing — a chair. The reality is that a chair is not really just one thing, it is a multitude of things. A seat, a back, legs, paint, screws, the list goes on and on. We can continue to break down each of these parts into even smaller units until we eventually get to the near-infinite number of atoms that makes up any given object. As we can see, a chair is not just a chair, it is actually a near-infinite number of individual things that we somehow bind together into a singular object. When we look at a chair, despite it being made of many many parts, we see a whole. How does this happen?

Some might be tempted to explain this phenomenon by appealing to some human ability of pattern recognition. There is some merit to that, but it cannot tell the whole story.

Although there are many ways in which a particular chair is similar to every other chair in the world, that chair also has a nearly infinite number of idiosyncratic details that make it different from every other chair in the world as well. We can recognize a pattern in the object that we are familiar with, but in a rather strange way, it is both alike and not like every other object of the same kind. The category “chair” clearly cannot be determined merely by a list of physical characteristics. If all chairs are just as much (or even more) different than they are alike, how can we truly say they are all the same type of thing? Furthermore, if we were to take the materials that make up the aforementioned chair and turn them into something else (a table for example) the identity of the object would change despite being made of the exact same substance as before.

If the identity of a thing clearly cannot be determined by examining the raw material it is made out of, where then do these categories come from?

Purpose & Identity

The key to answering this question of identity is found in another philosophical term — telos. Telos is an Ancient Greek word meaning “end”, “purpose”, or “goal.” It is essentially the reason for a thing’s existence. When we perceive an object, we subconsciously perceive its telos. When we see a cup, we see a bunch of glass put together into a random shape, we see an object used for holding liquid for drinking. Our perception of the object is inseparable from its purpose.

We determine its identity based on what the object is for, not the material it is made out of.

We also judge the quality of the object based on how well it is able to fulfill its purpose. A knife, for example, is considered good if it is able to perform the function of cutting. That is its purpose and reason for existing. No one judges the quality of a knife based on its ability to hammer a nail. Not only is the identity of a knife determined by its intended function, but so too its quality is determined by its ability to perform that intended function well.

A dull knife doesn’t stop being a knife, but it stops being a good knife and it stops being good at being a knife. Likewise with men. A man who is not masculine doesn’t stop being a man by virtue of his biology, but he does stop being good at being a man and by extension being a good man.

This means that in order for something to be virtuous, it must be able to achieve its telos. Any quality of a particular thing that is judged without reference to its purpose is ultimately disordered. Without purpose, without a goal, without a telos, things are just unintelligible clumps of matter.

If we reduce everything down to the material it is made out of, its identity is erased. Imagine looking at the statue of David and saying “that’s just a bunch of marble” or the Mona Lisa and saying “that’s just a bunch of paint”. Clearly, we would be missing the most fundamental aspect of the identity of the art which has nothing to do with the raw chemicals that it is made from.

This may seem like abstract philosophical nonsense that has no practical value to most men, but I assure you this identity problem is relevant to the topic at hand.

The Moral Form of Man

As we have seen, a thing’s identity is intrinsically tied to its purpose — what it is for. Although there are certainly relevant differences between animate and inanimate things, the principles of identity still apply in a broad sense. And so it follows that men, as human beings, also have a purpose for which they exist — a Platonic form they are participating in.

This form serves as a universal pattern or way of being that is the standard by which all men are judged. The category of “man” exists for a particular purpose and function and we judge a man’s worth based on how well he is able to perform that function. It is inherently wrapped up in his identity as a creature.

People have been debating what it means to be a man for a very long time now, and that won’t stop anytime soon. As cultures develop and change, their understanding of the purpose of masculinity also changes.

Different men from different religious backgrounds will all have a different set of moral principles that serve as their foundation of goodness, and I am not here to debate which religious tradition has the best moral system. But it seems to me that any set of ethical principles that a group uses to categorize men as good or evil must take into account a man’s ability to fulfill his function as a man.

And so we end where we began, with Donovan’s philosophical distinction between the universal masculine essence and masculine morality. He was and is right. Being a morally good man is not the same as being good at being a man, but being good at being a man must be part of being a morally good man.

Without any coherent sense of what a man is for, it is impossible to have a coherent sense of what a good man is for. Can a man be good in the moral sense if he willingly chooses to be incapable of protecting or providing for his family? Can he truly be moral if he is a coward? It would seem that choosing effeminacy in spite of his nature as a man would bring dishonor to him and his family. Any sense of good moral stature will require a man to be strong, courageous, and honorable.

It is certainly true that being a good man is different from being good at being a man. But being good at being a man must be part of being a good man, otherwise, any kind of moral or ethical judgment will be falling onto an otherwise unintelligible creature.