In a recent interview, former President Barack Obama offered an honest reflection about how progressives talk about boys and young men.
“As ‘progressives, Democrats, progressive parents, enlightened ones,’ we’ve made that mistake sometimes in terms of our rhetoric, where it’s like we’re constantly talking about what’s going on with the boys instead of what’s right with them.”
It’s a rare moment of public clarity — one that more of us, especially in higher education, need to hear.
On campuses across the country, young men are increasingly showing up not as students to be educated or peers to be befriended, but as problems to be managed. They’re presumed to be either oblivious or dangerous — steeped in privilege, prone to misogyny, or silently waiting to offend. That’s the cultural script, and it’s hurting them.
I have seen this play out every fall for the past two decades as a college professor. Bright, motivated male students arrive on campus hoping for community, mentorship, and the chance to build relationships. But the atmosphere that greets them is often one of suspicion. Welcome week and orientation workshops assume guilt before behavior. Messaging about consent, equity, and inclusion, important in themselves, can blur into a broader framing that positions traditional ideas of masculinity itself as inherently risky.
Some of these young men withdraw socially. Others avoid speaking in class. Many stop dating altogether, worried that interest will be misread as entitlement. Their confidence drops, and their sense of purpose along with it. They seem deflated and lost — unsure of what to do and even who they can talk to.
Sadly, my impressions about young men on campus are supported by the data. Men are now a minority on U.S. college campuses, making up just 42% of undergraduate students. They graduate at lower rates than women and participate less in student government and campus leadership. Reports regularly show that college-aged men generally report lower satisfaction with their social lives, lower dating engagement, and higher discomfort navigating social norms — particularly in environments shaped by strong ideological expectations.
Even in their most intimate lives, men are struggling. Despite assumptions that male students benefit from a “hookup culture,” studies tell a different story. Men in hookup-heavy environments report higher rates of loneliness, more anxiety around rejection, and fewer long-term relationships. And dating apps, which many turn to out of convenience or necessity, tend to amplify these effects, lowering self-esteem and rewarding superficial traits over deeper connection.
These trends don’t exist in a vacuum. They reflect a deeper shift in how society talks about and to boys. Instead of asking what’s going right with them, we fixate on what’s wrong. Instead of cultivating male confidence in healthy and productive ways, we treat it as a sign of threat or ego. Instead of guiding boys into manhood, we shame them for even aspiring to it.
Certainly, none of this is to deny that serious problems persist. Sexual assault, harassment, and toxic behavior remain pressing concerns. But too often, the solution offered is a blanket suspicion or hostility toward masculinity itself, rather than a clear differentiation between destructive conduct and healthy strength. We don’t fix broken norms by vilifying manhood. We do it by modeling better ways to be men.
The result is a generation of young men who are less confident, more confused, and increasingly checked out. Some turn inward — into video games, online forums, or isolation. Others are drawn toward political or social extremes, where their frustrations are weaponized and promoted instead of addressed. Most coast by, unsure of their proper role in society and how to simply exist.
To reverse these trends, we need to do more than identify risk factors or punish bad actors. We need to identify and promote what healthy manhood can look like. It starts by encouraging responsibility, cultivating social confidence, and teaching emotional maturity — not through shame or guilt, but through mentorship and modeling.
This means affirming boys who show up for their friends, follow through on commitments, and stand up for what’s right — even when it’s hard. It means talking about values, ethics, behavior, and choices. It means recognizing courage in vulnerability, celebrating effort over dominance, and giving young men spaces where strength is defined by integrity, not intimidation. Coaches, teachers, leaders and public figures, and families and fathers must model this by living it — not just talking about it.
It also means creating campus cultures that recognize male students as full participants in the academic and social life of the university. That doesn’t require rolling back protections or ignoring women’s concerns. It requires expanding the frame — seeing men not just as possible problems but as possible partners in building stronger communities.
Obama’s words should not be controversial. But in today’s climate, even his rebuke has sparked unease, especially as Obama veered into sexuality and identity. That alone is telling. Too many on the Left, and too many in academia, have grown uncomfortable with acknowledging that young men might need support, encouragement, or empathy. But they do.
COLUMBIA DISCIPLINES DOZENS OF STUDENT PROTESTERS AS SCHOOL NEGOTIATES WITH TRUMP ADMINISTRATION
What’s going on with the boys? They’re struggling to find their place in a culture that often treats their very presence as a liability. But what’s right with them? The answer is less certain. But they want to belong. And many are asking quietly for help in becoming the men our communities need.
It’s time we started listening.
Samuel J. Abrams is a professor of politics and social science at Sarah Lawrence College and a nonresident senior fellow at the American Enterprise Institute.