Men Behaving Badly

My love, my heart, my life. This is how my daughter and myself typically communicate that, on most days, we find each other pretty cool. The mother of this fabulous little creature is currently fabricating an entirely new life form for us to change, burp and make silly noises with. If said infant is even half as funny, smart and fundamental to my existence as the first, I will again have to redefine the meaning of joy. But, I really, really want her to bring us a boy.

I know, I know, I'm not supposed to admit to such a desire and should really only be hoping for ten fingers and ten toes. My rationale for this secret hope is not what you might think. It is not out of a desire to have a buddy with whom I can go fishing, watch hockey, fix the car or do any of the other "guy" stuff. Since leaving the city and my buddies, who, frankly, are more aptly described simply as human than "guys", I have realized, in forming new social relationships, that I am not really interested in a lot of "guy" stuff. I don't watch sports, I find strippers sad and boring, I can't play hockey and I have only ever enjoyed competing against myself. In fact, I have never been able to get fully behind many aspects of male culture.

In a Front Line documentary entitled "The Merchants of Cool", Douglas Rushkoff coined a descriptor that encapsulates the worst in "guy" culture. He calls them mooks. A mook is anti-intellectual, it enjoys beer, wrestling and degrading women. It sits in "gynecological" row in the strip club and buys the woman it says it loves a set of fake boobs or a gym membership for Christmas. A mook is the satirical muse for Homer Simpson and the audience of "The Man Show." Not all guys are mooks, but no mook is a man - not in the way that I would have a man defined anyway.

My entire life, while in the company of mooks, I have often felt like some sort of anthropologist in 19th. century Borneo, or some such place - similar to the indigenous population but on a different page entirely. Through the hatefully vile synonyms for the vagina (think C word people) spewed out whenever a particularly strong adjective is needed, the mocking trash talk disguised as humour, and the intense need to get away from women and children for weekends of beer and farting, I have sat with mooks as a cultural observer, they my objects of study.

One may assume at this point that my social obligations have led me to spend time with the worst of Jerry Springer's white trash. Not so. I am talking about professionally educated guys - teachers, lawyers, brokers. Pillar of the community types with families back home. Not all of them participate explicitly - with 10 guys in the room, three or four will be mooks and the pig dog extremes to which they will go and the fear of being mocked, generally shuts up any impulse to decency amongst the others.

So, why do guys, who get all cuddly and misty with their daughters, and who are perfectly charming at a dinner party, act like mooks when out with the boys? Partly it's because they find it funny, but mostly it is due to a code. Men, from the time they are preschoolers, live by a code that is generally misunderstood and rarely discussed. I am, in fact, violating the code by talking about it now. This code, I believe, is part evolutionary hold over and part social construction. It has, historically held a valuable social utility. Although base in its emotional expression, it bonds us to our wives and children and, right or wrong, makes us protective. It forces us to be prideful and requires that other males show us respect or we will do violence, or at least threaten it. The code teaches us to desire power, helps us to suck it up when things get tough and is the foundation of society wide concepts that males have co-opted for their own - strength of character, honour and integrity. There are good aspects to the code. But it hurts us too.

The code won't let us cry. It mocks spirituality and self-awareness. It keeps us at work passed dinner, when we should be in the sandbox with our kids. It makes the silence between husband and wife cold and the arguments cruel. It forces us to keep quiet as things get nasty at the stag with some poor woman gyrating, shooting ping pong balls and inserting vegetables as fathers, husbands and brothers spew misogynist "encouragements." It's disgusting, degrading and beneath us, and most of us feel it. Very few, however, speak up as the code would then necessitate that such values and the conviction to stand in opposition should be ridiculed, and harassed. What is ironic here, is that at this moment, when a man, in my view is actually being a man, the derision will involve accusations of femininity - you pussy, you wus, you nancy or sit down bitch.

Male roles used to be clearly defined and men took comfort in that. As traditional "providers", the hunters, the warriors, the statesmen, we pretended women did not do anything and were secure in our knowledge of what was expected of us. The code required us to be to be honourable, to be strong and to be as good as our word. The code helped us get things done. The code gave us self-worth. It defined us. It did not, however, ever require us to be respectful of women except while in the company of women.

The code exists today without real social value as traditional gender roles are no longer relevant. Diapers, cooking, even home decorating, the roles have crossed over into some strange, postmodern transgendered grey area. Women are thankful for the help. Kids have better fathers. Men are confused. Lets face it, without athletics, the occasional "manly" project around the house while wearing the tool belt, or driving machines with lots of horsepower, what does a man, with an evolutionary instinct to be manly, have left to feel powerful about? The weedeater, a kickass stereo, a hunting rifle, a riding lawn mower? The code tells us to be powerful, but we don't know how.

Gathered in groups, free from the civility that most women require, male power, as directed by the mooks, has mutated into expressions of surprising barbarism. E mails of violent, graphic sexual content circulate office computers and the mooks laugh. Sex is a body function and a symbol of power and prowess as the mooks count of the "conquests" and head off to Vegas because extramarital whoring outside of a 50 kilometre radius doesn't count . To a mook, eating beef dip for lunch at "Hooters" is perfectly normal. So is a group of pathetic middle aged men commenting on the "wares" of a sixteen year old girl.

We have a code, but it no longer does anything for us except take us away for the weekend with the guys where many of us watch in horror as the mooks construct their identities from the cheapest form of power - that based on ridicule, derision and the oldest of them all, the insult of all things female. Many agree with me, but the code prevents them from saying anything.

I went to a stag a few weekends ago. It was my first and I was afraid. The fact that it was my first is testimony to my hatred of things mook, and, I imagine, the quality of men I am lucky enough to have known - all other pre-wedding parties I've attended included women. I went, partly out of code and partly out of my respect for the groom to be. It was thankfully mook free, but very gaseous. Men, beer and steak does make for some interesting smells. I heard the c word only twice, was called a bitch for doing the dishes and an alarming amount of garbage went out the windows on the way to the golf course. A few conversations did involve sex but they tended to go something like "I like sex." "Me too. Sex is good." Someone suggested that a naked women dancing would have been fun, and was mocked for it. Many talked about how great their wives were, and how, after only 20 hours or so, they missed their kids. I got the whip sound twice, for suggesting it would have been more fun as a co-ed event, and for calling home. Men, we are a confused bunch, but I am heartened by the fact that the mooks did not prevail.

All in all, not too bad an experience. A far cry from earlier experiences with the mooks where alcohol poisoning, porn, multiple partners and reducing women to their constituent body parts did not only inform the fabric of the conversation, it seemed to be the point of the gathering. Women know mooks exist, but have never believed that their husbands, boyfriends or friends could be such a thing. Mooks are very good at turning back into guys when a woman approaches the mook circle. Guys know. It happens at the cabin, at family gatherings, at the hockey pool - wherever guys stand around in a circle, beer in hand, a couple of mooks will start, and the rest of the guys will just laugh and shake their heads. The men will walk away. My son, as a man, will walk away.

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I want him to be the anti-mook - a man who reads, who cries, who values art and recognizes his spirit and the gift of his humanity that allows him to nurture others.

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Now, this dude means well, but he makes a lot of inherently innocuous pursuits (drinking beer, playing/watching sports, farting, etc.) sound positively loathsom. That much reeks of pseudo-intellectual elitism. What's to say a man who likes such things cannot be appreciative of art, culture, women? Too bad someone like this cannot see the artistry in a perfectly executed two-on-one break.

Sure some women act like jerks when they get together but it's nowhere near the extent of when mooks get together. I don't buy the argument that if you can find another example of a particular behavior that it's somehow okay to act like that.

In retrospect, I wonder why it seems to me that it was always the "mooks" who got the girls?

Maybe there are so few "non-mooks" because it seems there's little reward-- other than for it's own sake-- for "non-mookish" behavior.

Although, I could be all wrong. I seemed to transition from married to alone to involved in relatively short order.... but then the woman I'm involved with now is anything but typical. If not for her, I think I'd be very much alone, a "non-mook" woman invariably look through instead of at as we pass.

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Hours later, that sounds bitter and tinged with self pity. I'm not entirely sure that's what I meant to convey. And, I'm not entirely sure it's not.

The thing is, "mooks" are by nature extroverts, I think. They attract, and it seems to me, get attention. Those less given to "mookism" tend to be a bit more reserved, and obviously get less.

Not that I need a whole lot of attention.

I guess what peeves me a bit is that for all the complaining about "mooks", or men behaving badly, I don't see many of them going wanting for female attention.

[ August 30, 2002: Message edited by: TommyPaineatWork ]

In my experience, it's the jerks who've mastered the "non-mook" posture that are the worst. They're 'sensitive', they read, they're not consumed by sports (as if that's some indication of neanderthalism), they're politically "enlightened", they'll wash the dishes for, oh, about the first two weeks you're living together. And then they hit you with such an astonishing volley of misogynist crap, leaving you breathless, and pretty sure your sweetiepie's evil twin has killed your lover and taken his place.

I can totally understand the mooks description, he NAILED it on the head. We have a couple of friends who define mookness. They aren't nefarious mooks, it's mostly just old fashioned stupidity and lack of confidence leads them to this behaviour IMO. I've known a few calculating mooks, so I totally agree with Rebecca, they are the ones you must watch out for.

He just finished spending a few months on a fish boat with the mook of all mooks... I'm considering counselling for him.

I hear you. I felt much the same way growing up.

I agree with Rebecca. It's the passive-aggressive types you have to watch out for. With up front mooks, what you see is what you get. With the passive-aggressive types, they wait until you're in a moment of weekness and stab you in the back.

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In retrospect, I wonder why it seems to me that it was always the "mooks" who got the girls?

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They may get "girls", but not the quality ones, Tommy. My general response to the occasional mook who put the moves on me was "Go home, sweetie, you're out of your league."

The blond guy was of the same opinion as you, that the brainless mooks were more successful with women... But after a little examination, turns out that he could have gone out with a lot more women, had he not been so picky.

They're more successful with bimbos, not women.

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In my experience, it's the jerks who've mastered the "non-mook" posture that are the worst.

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But sometimes I wonder whether you real, quality women can appreciate how us non-mook guys had to deal internally with the locker room braggadocio growing up.

I think I can, in a sense, understand. The thing is, now you can look at where the braggarts are now, and chances are, you're in a way better place.

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The thing is, "mooks" are by nature extroverts, I think. They attract, and it seems to me, get attention. Those less given to "mookism" tend to be a bit more reserved, and obviously get less.

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Good point. I guess a lot of us got bruised along the way.

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Mm-hm. The trick is not to let it scar you.

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Our high-school experience is completely different from our adult experience.

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And a good thing, too. You learn some things during your adolescence, but there are those whose "glory days" are high school, and that's kind of sad... You've got another 50, 60 years of downhill afterwards...

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The blond guy was of the same opinion as you, that the brainless mooks were more successful with women... But after a little examination, turns out that he could have gone out with a lot more women, had he not been so picky.

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Actually, this is quite true now that I've had time to digest the whole idea. And as others alluded to, I think my incorrect visceral response has more to do with the feelings of isolation in adolescence rather than in adult life.

Funny, the nicknacks and bric-a-brac we put on the shelves of our minds and forget about, only to dust off periodically.

[ August 31, 2002: Message edited by: nonesuch ]

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One Blackshirt, who gave his name only as Dominic, admitted that he had been refused custody of his daughter because of an unfavourable psychological report, but put the result down to bias in court.

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Those Aussies are total nutters. It takes two to tango, boyos, and maybe if they were spending less time stomping around in ski masks and combat boots, their wivs wouldn't be looking elsewhere for kicks.

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Although base in its emotional expression, it bonds us to our wives and children and, right or wrong, makes us protective. It forces us to be prideful and requires that other males show us respect or we will do violence, or at least threaten it.

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I find the binary way people are dissecting humans on this thread very disturbing. What exactly is a "bimbo", in your estimation? A woman who dresses really femme-y? Are sex workers "bimbos"? Is it all women whose choices you disagree with who become the category non-"quality"-women?

Has it ever occured to the men who lament the number of "bimbos" attracted to "mooks" that the reasons have something to do with.... patriarchy?

Making these women out to be "victims" at best, worthless at worst, is divisive as well as disrespectful to all women. If you do not understand the conditions of someones life that have shaped them into the person that they are, I don't see how you can possibly be in a position to judge their character based on the height of their shoe heels. I've met feminists with sound analyses of political issues in all kinds of outfits, long nails and big hair don't equate with lack of brains or capacity.

Personally, I agree with Rebecca West. My experience is that on the spectrum of men whose interests range from poetry to wrestling, political theory to beer, that stuff doesn't matter. The proof is in the pudding, as they say. I think frequenting sex workers effects your psyche, but so can treating your partner the way you think sex workers should be treated- usually, with no respect to their personhood. Essentially, when you disrespect any woman, you're disrespecting us all, and it has been my experience that men who dehumanize any woman for whatever reason are the most disrespectful to the women they supposedly love, because they are constantly looking for ways in which every woman has feet of clay, and is therefore "worthless".

I do appreciate a critical analysis of male culture, but I always prefer people who are speaking from a position of relative humility, vs an "antropological" perspective. The reference to other men being akin to "natives in Borneo" was a signifier to me of the problem with the author's perspective- he thinks other men, and sexism, is beneath him (not to mention that he seems to think the same of people from Borneo...).

My experience is that acts on the spectrum of sexism are alien to no man, and I believe that men who recognize the problems of patriarchy, and that it is destroying them and the women they love, do best to be honest with themselves about the ways they themselves participate in it, instead of concentrating on pointing the finger at other men. We need them, after all, to work together to change men's values. Not to form some brigade of supposedly "enlightened" and "superior" men, who in the end through not supporting each other will become the worst of their own fears. Anti-sexism is not a competitive sport.