By Wyatt Rivers, Logan Rice, Zack Ruiz, and Dillon Muck
What does it mean to “be a man” in today’s world? It’s a question that young boys, especially in America, begin answering long before they realize it—and often without any choice in the matter. The foundation of masculinity is usually laid early, not through lectures or lessons, but through quiet observations of the men closest to them: fathers, grandfathers, uncles, brothers, and cousins. Whether a father is emotionally open or stoic, supportive or distant, he becomes a blueprint. How he handles stress, how he shows love (or doesn’t), how he talks about emotions—all of it quietly teaches a son what’s acceptable and expected. The male figures that surround him reinforce or challenge those teachings in subtle but powerful ways. These early influences form a silent script, often passed down through generations, that tells boys how to move through the world as men.
But that script doesn’t stay confined to the home. As boys grow into young men, they enter new arenas—college campuses, parties, fraternities—where masculinity gets put on display, judged, and often performed. Here, new expectations meet the old ones. Alcohol becomes a symbol, a test, and a shield all at once. It’s not just something to enjoy; it’s something to conquer, a marker of toughness and social credibility. The message is everywhere—from beer commercials to frat house basements: real men drink, they drink a lot, and they don’t get emotional unless it’s behind the safety of a few shots. Drinking becomes a way to bond, but also a way to avoid vulnerability, to put on a mask while still trying to connect. And for many, that mask becomes suffocating.
College culture, especially through the lens of Greek life, intensifies these pressures. Fraternities, often glorified in movies and social media, create environments where masculine ideals are enforced through status, money, strength, and social capital. For many young men, especially those who don’t fit that mold, this culture can be alienating or even dangerous. The desire to belong or feel powerful can push people to ignore their instincts, compromise their values, or engage in risky behavior—all for a fleeting sense of validation. The consequences of this culture aren’t just hangovers and regrets. In extreme cases, they’re trauma, addiction, or death, as seen in tragic hazing incidents at colleges across the country.
When given the prompt, "give me someone who is masculine," this is what AI generated. This feeds right into the idea of framing theory and cultivation theory. The media portrays this image that being ripped, having a beard, being angry or mean is masculine. Society has pushed this narrative to children, teenagers, young adults, and grown men for generations, and it's a shame that this happens.
On the flip side, when given the prompt "give me someone who is not masculine," this is what was generated by AI. What is wrong with this man? How exactly is he not masculine? This is what AI tells us is "not masculine" and this is why there is so much pressure on males to fit the mold of what masculinity is.
And yet, within all of this, there’s a growing awareness. A shift is happening. More men are questioning the expectations placed on them. More are talking about mental health, rejecting toxic norms, and embracing emotional honesty. The truth is masculinity isn’t fixed, it’s shaped by culture, relationships, and choices. That means it can evolve. This article explores that evolution by looking at the deeply personal and highly cultural forces that shape what it means to be a man: from fatherly influence on fraternity dynamics, from alcohol rituals to moments of clarity. In examining these layers, we can start to see not just the cracks in traditional masculinity—but the possibilities for something healthier, more honest, and more human to emerge.