Vol. 80 - What Makes the Man?

On vasectomies and manhood

ICYMI: I’m launching a paid tier. Please take a minute and consider subscribing. All proceeds will benefit the Pregnancy Justice nonprofit, which aids people facing pregnancy-related charges. Anyway, on to this week’s essay, which is all about balls. Well, not really.

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“Do you feel like less of a man?”

An acquaintance asked me this in the throes of one of the long weekend rides I do with my cycling group.

Ever the open book (as evidenced by this newsletter), I was happy to share that I my absence from the previous week’s ride was due to a recent vasectomy. Doctor’s orders: spend a day on the couch icing your crotch.

Which is why, according to my doctor, the first weekend of the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament is the most popular time of year to get a vasectomy. “Sorry, honey. Doctor’s orders. Pass me the nachos?”

The acquaintance was a bit older than me, with kids much older than mine, and had been considering getting one for the last several years. His biggest concern: his manhood.

“Well, unless you pick your doctor off of Craigslist, your dick should still work,” I joked, insinuating that manhood and reproduction are not one-and-the-same. At least they aren’t in my view. Granted, I’ve been lucky enough to be healthy in that regard, to have, with the help of Emily, been part three pregnancies with little effort. And so I’m speaking from a fortunate place here.

But this guy was neither the first nor the last who expressed the same concern about having his nuts cut. And as it has every time, this conversation led me to think about how I define manhood. Because by my definition, reproduction is pretty low—if at all—on the list.

By my metric, a man doesn’t need an intact vas deferens to be a man. So what is my metric, then? What equates manhood? Does writing a newsletter about the fears and challenges of fatherhood make me more manly? Or far, far less?

Of course, there are all of the old-world views of manhood: the ability to provide for his family (which I do, but not as much as my wife. Does that make me less of a man?) or a sense of do-it-yourselfism, ensuring that almost any hiccup around the house can be mended without calling a professional (I’m one of the least handy people I know. Does that make me less of a man?). There is a question of fitness and virility, both of which are especially important as we age. But does a lack of either make us lesser men? Is someone who needs to fuck every single day more manly than someone who just, you know, doesn’t? Am I less of a man these days than I was a few years ago when I was deadlifting over six-hundred pounds?

Or am I more of a man because I realize that almost no one in their forties (and beyond) needs to lift six-hundred pounds off the floor, and therefore I’ve tailored my fitness goals to functional movement, pliability, and heart health, that I might be around for my kids as long as I possibly can?

Am I less of a man or more of a man because I tell my son just how much I love him a dozen times a day? Am I less manly or more manly because I really don’t take sleights to heart anymore, because—thanks to the perspective of fatherhood—I really don’t have many fucks left to give?

What about emotions? What does it mean to express your manhood through the manifestation of your emotions?

Am I more of a man or less because I embrace my emotions and allow myself to feel the palette of feelings we as sentient creatures have been gifted? After all, Jim Valvano said that any day you can have your emotions move you to tears is a pretty full day. But he was a basketball coach at one of the sport’s highest levels. What could be more manly than that? (Of course, Jimmy V was also an Italian-American, and we have our own unique way of dealing with our emotions.)

Am I more or less of a man because I’m comfortable expressing my love to the people I love? Am I more or less of a man because I’m open about my fears?

These are all questions that I ask myself whenever I consider the idea of manhood, an idea that evolves over time. But one that never comes to mind, one that I’ve never even considered, is whether or not I’m a man because I can no longer reproduce.