Ode to Men

Let's Hear It for the Boys

Back in the 1980s, The Two Ronnies aired a sketch called The Worm That Turned - a dystopian romp where women ruled the world with PVC uniforms and machine guns, while men were forced underground, stripped of power tools, pubs, and dignity. It was gloriously daft of course - a send-up of gender politics before the discourse blew up, but at the time, it felt like satire from a far-off future.

Cut to 2025 and you’d be forgiven for wondering whether The Worm That Turned was less parody, more prophecy. In recent years, the term “masculinity” has become something of a dirty word - almost always preceded by “toxic”. And while it’s right we call out aggression, misogyny, and power abused, somewhere along the line we stopped making room for the good in men - the solid, caring, unglamorous, everyday decency that rarely makes headlines.

So this is a little celebration. Of men, in all their awkward, pint guzzling, gadget-loving, can’t see for looking, glory. Not because they’re perfect (no-one is, except perhaps dogs, some cats, and the occasional chicken) but because masculinity, at its best, isn’t something to be ashamed of. It’s something to be proud of, to laugh with, occasionally eye-roll at, and ultimately love.

Fight & Forget

My husband, after years of watching me navigate the exhausting minefield of female friendships - the ghosting, grudges, imagined slights, and occasional bouts of pure bitchiness - would often look on, baffled, scratching his head in disbelief. You see, men have a much easier time of it on the mate-ship front. I’ve previously touched on this, here, when admitting to preferring the company of men:

(Not) One of the Girls

I was reminded of this recently while out celebrating my husband’s birthday, where we were surrounded by his lifelong friends: the ones he’d grown up with, fought in playgrounds with, played football with, drank with, laughed with, argued with.

More than once, I stood back and watched in awe as they tore into each other with jokes, settled any tension with a hug, and drunkenly put the world to rights. Far healthier than ruminating on the past - which takes me neatly on to…

Humour

I’ll probably have to duck for saying this because someone, somewhere, is bound to be offended…But in my opinion, men are often funnier than women. Maybe it’s the absence of filter, a kind of carefree boldness that comes from not overthinking the consequences or the risk of offending. There’s also the fact that they had a head start in the funny stakes, as historically, men were handed the mic when it came to comedy, while women had to fight to be heard. But it’s also this: men do irascibility incredibly well - that gruff, deadpan, world-weary humour that somehow lands with perfect timing.

Nothing makes me laugh harder than a man who’s amusingly cantankerous. I’ll gladly squander valuable hours minutes watching reels of footballer-turned-curmudgeon Roy Keane, raging against minor indignities. My favourite clip? The moment he declares the three most overrated things in life: fireworks, parties and…smiling.

To clarify, moaning for the sake of moaning isn’t funny. Grumpy is flat, like a cake with no baking powder. But when there’s just the right mix - a dash of wit, a flicker of self-awareness, maybe a glint in the eye or a muttered aside - that’s when the irascibility cake rises, and you’ve got something deliciously comical.

That’s not to say that I don’t find women amusing. I loved the era of Wood and Walters, and Joan Rivers was a firm favourite in our house. Ballsy and bold, Joan broke traditional gender norms. I don’t think any woman has since come close to emulating her very masculine, highly successful type of comedy.

Zero Interest in Drama

When my husband gets back from the pub, I’m ready with a forensic line of questioning: Who was out? Any wives? Whats the goss? Questions which he invariably cannot answer because, like most men, he treats social details the way he treats IKEA instructions: skims the basics, ignores the rest, and hopes for the best. Which frustrates me no end.

Me? I need to know.

Not because I take sides in domestics - I’m diplomatic, and deeply sympathetic to the human condition - but because I’m incredibly nosy, live on a sleepy mountain, and the most salacious thing that’s happened lately is John from up the hill trying to flog a vintage mirror on the local Facebook group, while wearing nothing but a pair of budgie smugglers.

Men can be mates for over forty years and still have no idea what the other does for a living - and, begrudgingly, I respect that. They also accept that friend’s relationships sometimes break down, but rarely pass judgment, and absolutely refuse to probe when couples split up.

Let’s be honest, that’s no bad thing.

Task-Oriented Focus

Men often take a goal-based approach to problems: fix it, solve it, move on. That mindset can be grounding when emotions are running high, but jarring when all you really want is someone to fan the flames of your indignation.

I’ve lost count of the times I’ve wanged on (yes it is a word - in my head at least) about someone or something winding me up. If I rant to a female friend, she’ll mirror my fury, call whoever I’m cross with a “duplicitous shit,” and offer to crack open a bottle of wine.

But if I relay the same conversation with my husband, I’ll get a calm, considered appraisal of the situation, complete with practical suggestions for how I might “fix the issue.”

It’s not always what I want, but often what I need. Echo chambers are comforting - they validate our feelings and let us stew in delicious self-righteousness - but they don’t always help us move forward. Sometimes, it takes someone who refuses to join the mob to shift your perspective. And on that front, the men might be onto something.

Innovators

When it comes to world-changing innovation, the kind that turns heads and rewires everyday life, men have historically been the ones pulling the levers. From electricity to the aeroplane, many of humanity’s boldest leaps forward have come courtesy of the male brain.

Don’t get me wrong, I tip my hat to the likes of Marie Curie, Ada Lovelace, Hedy Lamarr, and women like them who smashed through walls that were practically made of reinforced steel. Because let’s be honest: invention has mostly been a boys’ club, due in no small part, to a cocktail of biology, upbringing, and a healthy dose of sheer, stubborn obsession.

Men have succeeded because they have a tendency to be risk-takers, can be fiercely single-minded, and are more than willing to blow things up just to see what happens. Add to that a historical get-out-of-jail-free card when it came to domestic duties, and you have a recipe for mad experiments, half-baked ideas, and, occasionally, genius breakthroughs.

Of course, not all inventions were inspired strokes of brilliance. Some were accidents, some were rivalries gone too far, and some were just plain old boredom. But there’s something uniquely fascinating about the male knack for tinkering - that restless urge to poke the beast until it either bites back or reveals a new secret.

And maybe that’s worth celebrating - not to knock the incredible women who’ve done the same, but to honestly rejoice in what the male mind is capable of when left to its own devices.

Low Maintenance Living

Men can live like monks or feral raccoons, depending on the season. Single men, in particular, are a fascinating study in minimalist survival. Peer through a bachelor’s keyhole, and you will see a fridge containing only beer and condiments, one damp towel hanging in the bathroom, a single set of cutlery in the cupboards, drinking glasses stolen from the pub, and pants from the year 1999. Yet somehow these fellas are perfectly content.

This is not a criticism. Far from it. Not for them the worry over who used the guest towel on the wet dog...

Still, let’s be clear: this isn’t a plea to turn back time or revive outdated notions of masculinity. What we’ve needed for a while now is a proper reckoning - and some of it was definitely overdue.

For all its daftness, The Worm That Turned hinted at something more unsettling: a world where men weren’t just stripped of power, but of purpose. Today, there’s no PVC clad matriarchy patrolling the aisles of Waitrose, but masculinity often feels like it’s under intense scrutiny. The pubs remain open (just), power tools are safe, yet many blokes find themselves puzzled, wondering when simply being a man started to feel like a minor offence.

Maybe the worm hasn’t turned so much as gently shuffled, unsure what comes next. But that’s alright. Because beneath all the cultural noise and clumsy think-pieces, decent men haven’t “evolved” into some new species - they’ve just kept going. Holding onto what masculinity’s really about: being there to protect, to provide, to steady the ship. With loyalty, gruff charm, and a half-eaten pork pie in the glove box.

And I, for one, think that deserves a proper cheer - or at the very least, a pint of lager in a clean glass that wasn’t nicked from the pub.

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I’m glad my previous piece on rooting for the bad guy resonated with so many. If you missed, please find below.

Rooting for the Bad Guy