Strong is better than weak.

I think most of us already know that.

Jordan Peterson, that self-proclaimed arbiter of all things masculine, says that men need to reconnect with their inner monster. He’s on YouTube, you can watch him yourself, sitting there in his white shirt, tie and suit jacket, telling the rest of us how tough we need to be.

Yo, Jord, you got a therapist?

I would suggest that the honorable Professor Peterson is suffering from a problem most prevalent among academics, philosophers and other deep thinkers who are sheltered from the real world behind ivy-covered brick walls. I would also be willing to bet that the good professor carries neither callus nor bruise, anywhere on his person, least of all on his hands.

This ‘monster’ business is not an issue with most men. Most of us, whether we be taxi drivers, plumbers, firemen, carpenters, cops or shoe salesmen, we know all about the beast. The beast lies just beneath the civilized veneer, and the problem is not connection, the problem is restraint. If that beast gets loose, he will rampage all over my life and turn me (back) into the sort of raving asshole that nobody can live with, especially me.

Back in the day, you learned these things in grammar school. How to get back up when you get knocked down. How to say no. How to take a punch, and if necessary, how to return the favor. And you found out, most often painfully, that you don’t want to be a soft target. And no, you can’t always win, but you can usually make the aggressor regret that he picked you to mess with.

And aggression is not strength. Rage is not strength. Some of the traits commonly associated with masculinity are not strength at all, they are actually weakness and fear, pretending.

The real issue is not connecting with your dark side. The issue is control. The issue is growth. And fistfights might be common in adolescence, but they are embarrassing after the age of twenty, and they are very hard to justify at all after thirty. The real issue is how to express anger as an adult, not a three year old. The real issue is how to stand up for you and yours as an adult, not as a spoiled child.

People define masculinity in all sorts of ways. Bench pressing a particular number, for example, or possessing a stock portfolio of a certain size, or being able to fix your own car. Hey, whatever works for you. But I would suggest that an important part of any definition of masculinity has to be strength. Can you stand up, without losing control? Can you contribute, sensibly and with restraint? And when your corner of the playground is in need of some common sense and maybe a little compassion, which is, like, most of the time, can you be that guy?

That’s an adult male.