Damaged brains and troubled souls

Dana White, the brash, bald-headed president of the Ultimate Fighting Championship, is not famed for nuance. “I hate this whole men’s mental health bullshit that they talk about,” says White, “Unfortunately, when you’re a man, you are the provider … You are the example for your kids when they grow up … I’m really against all that.”

Well, I’ve had my criticisms of “men’s mental health” discourse as well. It excessively problematises emotional restraint. It promotes “one size fits all” solutions. It ignores the social context of male unhappiness (like pubs and clubs disappearing).

But for Dana White, of all people, to promote simply balling up one’s emotions is amazing.

Look at the people Mr White has worked with over the years. The list of his longtime colleagues in mixed martial arts is a psychiatrist’s dream. There was B.J. Penn — the star lightweight who keeps being arrested while claiming that his relatives have been replaced by “imposters”. There was Jon Jones — the effortlessly sinister GOAT whose good guy image collapsed amid hit-and-run charges, DUIs, and comically obstructive professional conduct. There was Conor McGregor, whose ego soared like the Tower of Babel. (As bad as some of these men — and others! — have been, it cannot be forgotten that their job — and Mr White’s business — involves being repeatedly hit in the head.)

This is a man, in other words, who has worked with people who have had devastating mental health problems. Others have been quite open about them. Dustin Poirier and Robert Whittaker have spoken movingly about periods of depression. (“We feel like it’s a weakness to admit we’re going through something or to seek help,” said Mr Poirier, “It’s not.”) These are some of the most talented fighters alive, as well as some of the toughest men. (For all his many gifts, the dismissive Mr White cannot say the same.) Yet mental suffering can knock anybody down.

This is a real problem of cultural polarisation. The desire to separate oneself from one’s outgroup encourages knee-jerk oppositionism. That people can be annoying and misleading on the subject of “men’s mental health”, then — according to this framework — means that we should dismiss the theme entirely.

At the risk of taking Mr White’s riffing too seriously, the claim that as a man “you are the provider” is just dream fuel for a largely childless, unmarried audience. When it comes to being an example for one’s kids, meanwhile, I suspect that this can mean modelling healthy vulnerability as well as modelling effective strength. You can’t set a good example for your kids, speaking bluntly, if you become distant or simply disappear.

The biggest problem with men’s mental health discourse, as a theme, is the idea that there is one correct approach

Again, this is not to claim that one should accept what is presented as being insight on men’s mental health. I’m as annoyed as anyone when people claim that any feeling demands micro-analysis, or that any provocative joke or laddish sentiment is evidence of “toxic masculinity”. I’ll fully admit that White has a point when it comes to finding it tiresome when people indulge in performative self-pity.

But it is a mistake to become your rivals’ caricature of your position. If left-wing commentators say “men are comically repressed macho try-hards”, it won’t do to say, “HELL YEAH, WE’RE COMICALLY REPRESSED MACHO TRY-HARDS!”

The biggest problem with men’s mental health discourse, as a theme, is the idea that there is one correct approach. The idea that men should be sobbing twice a day, and earnestly discussing how they feel about their penises, is on the same counterfeit coin as the idea that men should be stone-faced John Wayne impersonators. Men — like women — can have all kinds of illnesses, insecurities, disappointments, fetishes, fears, goals, dreams and desires. Men might benefit from writing poems, punching a heavy bag or punching a heavy bag while reciting poems. (Yes, others might benefit from SSRIs or seeing a therapist.) What matters is having a discursive framework that is not rigid and narrow enough to exclude scepticism and individuality.

One thing that is certain is that men’s mental health discourse will continue. This is partly because of ideological opportunists and concern trolls, yes, but it is also because of very real problems. If you doubt me, just take a look at your favourite social media platform. Watch the insecurities, aspirations and personality disorders running wild.