I was delighted to speak with TracingWoodgrains about Wikipedia corruption, cultural renewal, Mormonism, furries, generational issues, and more. It all makes sense if you listen!

I apologize: The audio quality isn’t great due to connectivity issues — but the quality of Tracing’s remarks more than makes up for it.

“Trace,” as many call him, is one of the most interesting thinkers I’ve met in recent years. He and I are both gay and ex-Mormon, so it was fun to dive into his views on religion, Mormon culture, and how institutions can recreate the good aspects of Mormonism.

Trace is a well-known chronicler of Internet culture. Last week he broke a blockbuster investigative story on the corruption of Wikipedia editing by one of its admins. Previously, he worked for the Blocked and Reported podcast hosted by Jesse Singal and Katie Herzog where he contributed to number of other big stories on Internet culture.

Trace grew up in Utah, went on a Mormon mission, and served in the Air Force for six years as a Chinese linguist. He’s married to a man and is attending law school. He considers himself an agnostic/atheist but still hungers for a secular religion that doesn’t yet exit. I explore this tension and much more.

Enjoy the conversation!

We discuss

* Wikipedia’s editing process and the response to his article

* The furry subculture and his relationship to it

* His self-doxxing and identity, and what that’s been like

* How to recreate the good aspects of Mormon culture, like volunteerism

* The challenges of building a new religion to push back against progressivism

* His thoughts on building secular institutions

* The need for normative moral frames

* His ecological perspective on religion

* Understanding liberalism as a peace treaty, not as a replacement of the good

* “Choosing the right” in general and as a gay man

* How he thinks about liberation and normative frames

* His value on excellence

* How to be nice and decent, and also direct and unafraid

* The decline of institutions and other challenges younger generations face

* What he wishes older generations would appreciate

* Having kids and building a family

Links to check out

* Trace’s article, “Reliable Sources: How Wikipedia Admin David Gerard Launders His Grudges Into the Public Record”

* Trace’s video conversation with Chris Best

* Trace’s podcast with Walt Bismarck (paywalled) - “Mormonism and Neopets”

* Trace’s podcast with Richard Hanania (paywalled) - “Towards a Gay Ex-Mormon Furry Centrism”

* Trace’s podcast with Aaron Rabinowitz - “Tracking in Schools”

* Trace’s podcast with Zach Groshell - “Student Loan Forgiveness, Tracking, and Internet Garbage”

* Trace’s video conservation with Alex Kaschuta - “The Burden and Delight of Carving Your Own Path”

On today’s episode, I talk with Rajeev Ram about his life in rural Tennessee, where he practices MMA with the bros on the one hand and works with a gay matchmaker to find a partner on the other. Quite the combo, right?

We talk about navigating male spaces as a gay guy, fellowship and mentorship, intergenerational dynamics, and building a life in a rural area as a well-educated, 29-year-old man of South Asian descent. I obviously probe how matchmaking is working out for him; inquiring minds want to know.

Rajeev is a new friend I met through Substack. He publishes the Cactus Brahmin Testimonials and co-hosts a podcast called The Overton Window. Rajeev is a graduate of the University of Chicago and grew up in the American Southwest. He also offers coaching.

Many of the late Millennials I’ve met are reinventing not just work but how they live. Covid and housing prices have pushed them into rural areas, where they are forging a new kind of American dream. This theme came up in my conversation with Steven Foster. I see Rajeev very much in this vein. We cover a range of interesting topics, so definitely listen!

We discuss

* Living in Rural Areas and Finding Community

* MMA: Developing Groundedness and Confidence

* Navigating Male Spaces as a Gay Man

* The Importance of Male Fellowship and Mentorship

* Authenticity and Belonging

* The Power of Vulnerability and Sharing Personal Experiences

* Finding Your Tribe and Building a Network of Advisors

* Initiation Rituals and Rites of Passage

* Reconstructing Spaces for Male Fellowship

* Envisioning a Future: Rajeev's Vision for Family and Creativity

* Supporting Millennials: Leading by Example and Sharing Experiences

* Setting Boundaries and Managing Time: Navigating the Challenges of Intergenerational Collaboration

Some quotes

"I've enjoyed a lot more of the congeniality and especially here in the South. There's this sense of slowness and grace."

"We're trying to find a way to incorporate intellectual life into a setting that feels more wholesome and connected."

"There's no amount of money, security, status or accomplishments that will prepare you to take the leap of faith to move a rural area."

"You wanna deal with Bruce the Bear from HR, who facilitates and has your back."

"Hugs are good, but that's not really what men are looking for."

"Health, nourishment, and belonging. I can exist in the world as I am."

"I want to have some creative aspect of my life where I continue to make my own bone broth and kombucha and sell it, or encourage guys to make art online and things like that."

"I think being out there myself and trying to be honest with my own successes and struggles and story."

"I do think you're right that, in a sense, you're a guy who's been involved in right-wing politics before, but you know how to set your own boundaries, and now you're a dad. There is a sense in which I feel like people who are right-leaning or right-friendly, especially if they're gay, here's a model of someone who has at least, whether or not you could follow this exact pathway, he's doing this thing."

A few of Rajeev’s posts to check out

* The futility of good works without help

* The real EXIT is the friends you make along the way

* The homosexual curry peddler

* Three different conceptions of group isomorphisms

* Anglo-Hinduism & Indo-Christianity

Other links

* Bree Greenberg

* Bree’s video, Intimacy and integrity in emergence

Jeff Giesea is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

This is part 4 of a four-part exploration of the inner life of men of different generations.Part 1 - late MillennialsPart 2 - Gen XPart 3 - Boomers Part 4 - Zoomers (this essay)

Feel free to swipe left on this essay, Zoomer Guys. I admit I don’t get you. I am taking a shot here, so be gentle.

You are the children of my Gen X generation, the kids of my friends, the peers of my nieces and nephews. My 6 year-old son looks up to you as role models. You are the hosts of strange YouTube shows he enjoys that I don’t understand. When he started called me bruh and sus, I knew I had to shut that sh*t down and rethink my device controls. It’s no wonder his school is requiring all parents to read Anxious Generation by Jonathan Haidt this summer. 

You guys have lived that book. I sometimes wonder how you survived growing up with social media and easily accessible porn. My first memory of schoolyard porn was when a kid brought a copy of Penthouse Forum to our sixth-grade class, and we passed it around like Soviet samizdat. In high school, there was a paid-access Playboy cable channel, but it was locked down except at the rare home of a divorced dad. For you, dopamine traps are EVERYWHERE. “Like” this. Swipe that. Jump cuts. iPads in the car. Have you ever had space to be bored? To be disconnected? To let your mind rest? No judgment. I’m a digital addict now; I just don’t know what that’s like as a teen or 20-something.

Dating seems awful for you guys, too, unless you’re an A+ Chad in which case your body count is higher than a funeral home. What’s up with the girls in your generation making pouty faces while taking selfies literally everywhere? I don’t blame you for looking at this shallow and ridiculous culture of clout-chasing and opting out.

Based on the stats, your generation is the most LGBT and also the most under-sexed. The most disturbing stat was this one, though: according to Pew, 63% of guys in your generation are single, compared with 34% of women. How does that even work? Assuming this reflects a brokenness in romantic relations, of course you’d rather hang out with gamer friends and gym bros instead of dating. 

I also noticed that the political gap between men and women is widest in your generation, with boys more conservative and girls more liberal. I’ve followed some of your political activity from afar, from the groypers on the right to climate change activists on the left. You guys seem smart and… really hard-core. You like to point out the elephants in the room that everyone is ignoring. I respect that because I’m the same way. To you, it may seem like there’s no time to dance around issues. Everything is a catastrophe. Everything is existential. Our backs are against the wall. Stop beating around the bush! Usually, I’m the one like that. But with you guys, I get to be the mellow old guy: Hey. Chill. Put things in perspective. Tone it down.

When I started exploring what’s happening in the souls of Zoomer men, a guy in his 40s quipped, “They were born well into the decline, it’s all they know.” This seemed jaded to me at first, but when I look at trust in public institutions and the trajectory of America during your lifetimes, I take his point. 

A 29 year-old friend described his younger Zoomer friends as ironic but not cynical. “Most of them don’t have any experience with functional and innovative institutions, from education, to dating, to healthcare, to finance, to spirituality,” he wrote. “They only know a post-9/11 world and really only know the realities of a post-2008 economy.” 

Another friend pointed to asymmetry as a theme among Gen Z — where the top 10% of Zoomer men are in doing great, but everyone else is broken and suffering. Being in a winner-take-all generation in a winner-take-all society must be frustrating, especially when your prospects are shaped by things you can’t control.

You may know the saying, the past is a foreign country. To you, 20th century America probably feels like a foreign country. Things have changed so much since then.

You’ve faced some unique obstacles as well. Covid messed up your schooling or early career. A zero-interest rate environment has jacked house prices and rents, creating an affordability crisis.

The question many Zoomer men I know are asking themselves is: Will I ever be able to support a family? Some may look at the odds, throw up their hands, and embrace nihilism. Others are working hard to make a life despite odds that feel long. 

Jokes and irony are a way to cope, I get that. And some seasons of nihilism may be part of man’s journey to find meaning. But my strong advice to you guys is to resist letting nihilism swallow you whole. Don’t let darkness colonize your soul. Move beyond the black pill to something with equal parts realism and optimism. Preserve space for joy. Make room for the divine.

Things are rough out there, but opportunities still abound. Some of the asymmetries can work in your favor as much as they can work against you. Our institutions are like cavalry in an age of machine guns; they haven’t adapted to this New World. You guys are living in a zone of dislocation where our social norms and institutions haven’t adjusted to ever-evolving contemporary realities. 20th century-bred minds like mine cannot comprehend what this is like.

But guess who gets to build the new institutions and norms? You do.

You have to play the hand that’s been dealt to you, my dudes. So play it. Your generation faces unique challenges, but boomers are exiting over the next decade and the future is MUCH MORE OPEN than most people imagine. So hold on. Find the spaces to carve out meaning and abundance and a good life. Take advantage of your youth. 

You guys are going to lead humanity into the 22nd century. Think about that. It may not feel like it now, but the future is truly yours.

Thank you to Rajeev Ram Walt Bismarck Meta Ronin and others for insights that I used in this essay.

Jeff Giesea is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Welcome to the second episode of “Conversations with Jeff,” a podcast where I talk to interesting people and explore topics at the forefront of politics, work, culture, and personal development.

How do you find your place in the world as a shapeshifter? What is it like going from being an MIT-educated software engineer who worked at Substack to embracing a new identity as a coach and artist? Find out this and much more by listening to this podcast episode. Come get woo-woo with us.

Rishi’s Journey of Self-Discovery, Fluidity, and Performance

I met Rishikesh Tirumalai when I put out a call for coaches who work with men and created a mini-directory, which you can find here. Rishikesh, who goes by Rishi, was trained by the same coaching company I was, the CoActive Training Institute. We hit it off immediately.

When I checked out Rishi’s website, it took me a while before I noticed how his name changes in the upper-left corner. Shapeshifting is a central part of his identity, which is ironic when you think about it. Rishi embraces fluidity and performance as tools for belonging. He hosts workshops, leads rituals, and lives and works in different locations. He’s hosting a virtual workshop on Generational Activism this Sunday, July 7th, and you can still register here.

In our conversation, we discuss Rishi’s journey of self-discovery and various aspects of his work and outlook. He shares his experiences with hosting rituals and creating transformative experiences for people. We talk about shame, digital nomadism, and the power of being seen. He shares programs that have been useful in his journey including Co-Active Coach Training, sobriety, Touchy Feely at Stanford GSB, and Yes Jam. We touch on his South Indian heritage and the importance of learning from different cultures and perspectives.

Show Topics

* Embracing Change and Exploring the Unknown

* Creating Transformative Experiences

* Singing His Way into MIT

* Being Seen and Sharing His Voice

* Building Relationships and Holding Space

* Naming and De-shaming Shame

* Reinventing the American Dream

* Generational Activism: Challenging Cultural Norms

* Somatic Witnessing: Being Present in Your Body

* Exploring Somatic Intelligence and Emotional Awareness

* The Impact of Societal Systems on Individual Well-being

* Connecting with Nature and Cultural Identity

* The Power of Faith and Trust in the Flow of Life

* Learning from Different Cultures and Perspectives

Sound Bites

* "I like creating new experiences for people that they didn't, like maybe bringing a sense of the transgressive or a sense of divinity into everyday spaces."

* "I recorded it. And I made a little video, a cute little, like all the lyrics were, you know, it's kind of an ode to MIT's culture."

* "I'm willing to admit that I have something to say, which is why I put myself out there when you put out the call."

* "I feel light. I feel like the river, the river of idea exchange is flowing."

* "What is the language our bodies are telling us?"

* "My body reacted of like, you know what, something feels kind of off."

Links to check out:

* Rishi’s website: https://rishi.garden

* Rishi’s Substack: https://substack.com/@rishi

* Rishi’s Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rishter

* Rishi’s Generational Activism workshop via Zoom July 7: https://lu.ma/generational

* Stanford GSB Touchy Feely exec ed program: https://www.gsb.stanford.edu/exec-ed/programs/interpersonal-dynamics-high-performance-executives

* Yes Jam: https://yesworld.org

This is part 3 of a four-part exploration of the inner life of men of different generations. Part 1 - late MillennialsPart 2 - Gen XPart 3 - Boomers (this essay) Part 4 - Zoomers 

The trait that stands out about Boomer Man is how genial he is. He makes small talk with the Ethiopian lady who rings him up at Trader Joe’s, compliments his neighbor’s summer landscaping, and makes funny faces at small children on airplanes and in restaurants. He goes out of his way to help elderly people, which at this point means people five years older than him. He was socialized in the softer, more civilized norms of 1950s and ‘60s America, and it shows.

As I write about Boomer Man here, he represents a composite of many boomer men I know and not any specific individual. Examining him with empathy is complicated because it brings up some of my own psychological baggage. My dad is on the oldest edge of boomer men, and we do not have a good relationship. After years of strain, I ended contact with him following my brother’s funeral nine years ago. It’s a long story.

On the other hand, my partner is on the younger side of boomers, and we have a great relationship even though it is unorthodox in some ways. My dear friend Steve and countless other friends, mentors, and contacts are boomer men as well.

Notwithstanding these positive relationships, my daddy issues and petty generational resentments sometimes rear their head. So as I study this composite Boomer Man, I have to take a deep breath first. Some of the baggage I exhale includes the little boy in me that wants his approval. Or an assumption that his generation has played life in “easy mode” compared to my own. Or jealousy that he has a pension, or that he bought his multimillion-dollar home for 12 raspberries in 1981. It feels pathetic admitting all of this, but it would be weird and unfair to project my issues onto him.

Thankfully, Boomer Man doesn’t notice my baggage-clearing breath. Why would he? Outwardly, everything is hunky-dory in Boomer Man’s world. Everything is peachy-keen. His world is Mayberry, and he is Andy Taylor. Never mind that today’s world is far from Mayberry, and he is not the town sheriff.

But beneath Boomer Man’s Howdy Doody geniality lies a well-concealed sorrow. Boomer Man would rather not look at it. He treats it as a secret. Within this sorrow is a begrudging awareness of his mortality, unresolved questions about his legacy, fears about the future, and fragments of a spiritual crisis. When these emotions surface, Boomer Man dispels them by verbalizing how grateful he is for his life — for his family, career, marriage, and home. He lights up when he talks about his grandkids, noting his good fortune.

Health issues are creeping up on Boomer Man, as they are with many of the boomer men in my life. It may be a heart issue or a knee replacement or a progressive disorder. Boomer Man actively addresses these issues — and thank God for modern medicine! — but he realizes his time on earth is slipping away. He says with a quivering lip that he could die tomorrow and feel satisfied. In conversations, he repeats sentences like: Time marches on and Getting old is better than the alternative. 

Boomer Man sometimes wonders: What is my place in the world now? He occasionally feels as though his relevance is slipping away like sands in an hourglass, bringing with it a sense of vulnerability. His closet mirrors this liminal sense of identity, filled with clothes he no longer wears — the light blue Brooks Brothers shirts, leather shoes, dark suits with full cuts, and ties hanging like award ribbons from another life. He realizes he should give a lot of it away.

Then again, Boomer Man is definitely not done. Sure, Boomer Man likes golf and savors his free time, but he is not retired. He is not a retiree. He has projects. He’s involved. People still thank Boomer Man for the ways he’s helped them, how he’s touched their lives. Boomer Man is a giver, not a taker. He still has a lot to offer the world, and this is true. 

Among my boomer men friends, many remain highly impactful. They chair boards, make valuable introductions, and undertake innovative projects. Some still work; others incubate businesses, write, or invest. For some time, I was an anti-gerontocracy crusader, a stance partly intended as a middle finger to my dad. I still believe it is a problem when 80-year-olds refuse to give up power (see Biden, Trump, Pelosi). However, I’ve had to add nuance after coming to appreciate how valuable boomers can be as tribal elders, even into their late-60s and 70s. There is nothing better than a “good boomer” who skillfully operates at his altitude. 

Regardless of whether he still works, Boomer Man’s natural habitat is in his living room or office, where he sits in his comfy chair reading the newspaper like Ward Cleaver, his coffee mug within arm’s reach. Cable news plays in the background, and he flips between CNN and FOX News. He’s not conscious of the cable news noise pollution, which is a source of tension between me and some of the boomer men in my life.

When I moved to Florida several years ago, I befriended several boomer men who watch Fox News religiously. In hushed tones, they would share political hot takes that, to my ears, sounded like recycled ideas from rightwing Twitter a decade ago or even from The Stanford Review in the ‘90s. Jeff, did you hear about the latest woke excess in schools! With some vanity, I imagine a supply chain of ideas emanating from my past political peers, through Tucker Carlson and other Fox hosts, and onto these freshly radicalized, Trump-supporting Fox Boomers. An old version of me would’ve seen this as a victory, a conquest of boomer hearts and minds. But the new me is taken aback because time has marched on and my perspective has evolved. It’s like being a fashion designer and seeing your trendy collection from a decade ago show up in Kirkland-brand clothes at Costco, except with the weight of politics.

Because of these dynamics, I sometimes need to establish boundaries around politics with Boomer Man. When he wants to say something about the latest cable news segment, I have to remind him: I saw that on Twitter four days ago. Or, Can we not talk about politics? I do that a lot online. This doesn’t mean Boomer Man lacks new or intelligent insights — he often has them. It’s just that his approach to political discourse is different. Cable News and Twitter are the Mars and Venus of political media.

Boomer Man views his childhood as straight out of Norman Rockwell, even if it was tough. He grew up watching Mickey Mouse Club, Sky King, Captain Kangaroo, and Roy Rogers. He cried during Lassie. He was shaped by Vietnam and Watergate, Woodstock and the Partridge Family. He remembers when Neil Armstrong planted a foot on the moon, when bell bottoms were cool, and when Reagan was first elected.

As Boomer Man looks at the world today, he sees beauty and grace and yet feels troubled by a world that seems to be spinning out of control. What kind of society is he leaving his kids and grandkids? How will they navigate the challenges ahead? It is not his fault he was born during the greatest stretch of peace and wealth creation in history. Will he leave the world a better place than he found it? He thinks about this question a lot, even though it’s largely out of his control.

Steady, reliable, and a Good Citizen™, Boomer Man’s greatest fear is becoming dependent on others. He’s always been the provider. It doesn’t occur to him to ask for help, and the idea of it conflicts with his identity. Boomer Man knows he needs to learn how to receive, how to surrender. But now is not the time for that, not yet.

In the abstract, I sometimes feel Boomer Man is holding things back and grow impatient with his continued presence on the world’s stage. But when I consider the boomer men in my life, I have to confess that I don’t want them to go. They are holding things together much more than holding things back. I value them. I’m not ready to lose the connection to "Leave It to Beaver" America that they represent to me.

The truth is, I need Boomer Man. Maybe we all do more than we are willing to admit. And yet, when Boomer Man does eventually ride off into the sunset, I know I will be ok. I know we will carry on. Kemo Sabe will be gone but never forgotten.

Special thanks to CansaFis Foote for pushing me to make this essay more personal.

Jeff Giesea is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Welcome to the inaugural episode of “Conversations with Jeff,” a podcast where I talk to interesting people and explore topics at the forefront of politics, culture, and life.

Have you ever noticed how people in their 20s and early 30s are redesigning their relationship with work? How some are ditching coastal tech jobs in pursuit of a different kind of American dream in rural America?

After writing an essay that went semi-viral on the talented & alienated late Millennial male, I’ve been talking to more men in this demographic. My first several podcast conversations are with several new friends in this demo, so consider this a first in a series. I realize we are all individuals first, so forgive me if I sometimes over-generalize about generations. Generational issues involving men is a topic I’m curious about at the moment.

Anyways, the more of these talented, late-Millennial guys I talk to, the more I am realizing there’s a lot to learn from them based on the way they’re reinventing so many aspects of life and work. I’ve become an unexpected champion.

I’ve noticed that this theme of “rethinking their relationship with work” keeps showing up in conversations. Keep in mind: Covid hit just as many of them were building momentum in their careers. My sense is that Covid accelerated a generational rethink around work that was already underway.

Steven Foster’s story: Leaving Silicon Valley in pursuit of a rural American dream

Today I talk to Steven Foster, a writer and creative who left Silicon Valley during Covid to live in the rural Pacific Northwest. Steven writes the Substack "Siesta in the Storm," which delves into religion, culture, and spirituality. Steven shares his journey from growing up on the San Diego-Tijuana border to working in Silicon Valley and eventually moving to the Pacific Northwest for a lifestyle reset with his young family. The conversation highlights Steven's experiences with faith, community, and the redefinition of the American dream.

Show Topics

* Steven’s background and journey from the San Diego-Tijuana border to Silicon Valley

* The impact of working in tech during the launch of the iPhone and iPad

* The decision to leave Silicon Valley during the pandemic and move to the Pacific Northwest

* The concept of careers becoming modern-day religions

* Steven's exploration of religion and faith through his writing

* The alienation and challenges faced by Millennial men in the professional world

* Personal anecdotes about generational wisdom and the cultural shift in values

* The importance of community support and asking for help in today's individualistic society

* The role of napping and rest in Mexican culture and its benefits

* Multigenerational living and the loss of intergenerational connectedness in the U.S.

* Trade jobs like carpentry and competing career visions

* Advice for young men feeling alienated and the value of giving to receive

* Steven's perspective on not making one's career their religion

For Discussion

How are you rethinking — or not — your relationship with work and vision of the American dream? Share your thoughts in the comments, even if you are outside the late-Millennial cohort as I am.

Thank you for listening to my first podcast episode, and a shout out to Steven Foster for being my first guest.

This is part 2 of a four-part exploration of the inner life of men of different generations.Part 1 - late MillennialsPart 2 - Gen X (this essay)Part 3 - Boomers Part 4 - Zoomers

Friends - It took me three drafts and the help of a friend to realize that I am Gen X Man and Gen X Man is me. Typical Gen X detachment. 😂😂 - Jeff

The first thing you notice about Gen X Man is that you don’t notice him. He’s the one listening to you. You love being around him for this reason. He’s so interesting! Then you realize you know nothing about him. That’s because he’s probably grey-rocking you, YOU NARCISSIST.

But seriously, Gen X Man is like that. We are good listeners, deflectors, undercover superheroes who do more than the culture acknowledges. We are the middle-child of generations, the ones who won Gold at the competition and picked up the medal alone because our parents were otherwise occupied. Don’t be sad for us — we’re ok with it. In fact, we’d rather you not read this. We don’t want to be seen. As the great Kurt Cobain noted: With the lights out, it’s less dangerous.

I am Gen X Man — born in the mid-70s, the fourth of five kids. As a child, I sat in the far back of our wood-paneled station wagon and sang songs with my family. I shared Bubble Yum with my siblings and a bedroom with my younger brother. We were Mormon in Marin County California and upwardly middle-class. I vaguely remember Jaws and Star Wars and a record player playing the soundtrack from Grease.

Then we moved to preppy Connecticut, a divorce followed, and my mom moved me and my younger brother cross-country once again to her hometown in crunchy Oregon. Things changed. I became a latch-key kid with a single mom. Our wood-paneled wagon became a wood-paneled Wagoneer. My preppy country-day school became a flannel-filled public junior high. I made my own dinners and got a job at Taco Bell at age 14. I was angry and alienated, a Boy Scout with a chip on my shoulder, a literal and metaphorical skateboarder. The message I internalized as a young teen: You can only count on yourself, Jeff.

Nirvana spoke to our souls for a reason. Today, at age 45-60, Gen X Man has made peace with our chip on the shoulder and our Grunge spirit. We are content with being content and secure with our place in the world — maybe too much so. As Gen X Man sees it, our generation is a “vale of humility between two mountains of conceit,” to borrow an old expression about North Carolina. In case it’s not obvious, the two mountains of conceit are boomers and Millennials.

This detached, self-satisfied, lone-wolf independence is core to Gen X Man. It is our greatest strength and our greatest liability. An astute Zoomer liberal arts student might diagnose me as having “toxic individualism,” to which I would reply, You may be right about that.

Gen X Man is like this: We are open. Willing to learn. Someone who acknowledges. And yet, when huddled around the grill with the other men, we laugh at the naughty jokes. We admit things have gotten too crazy, you know? But when the other men mock the Zoomer student’s nose piercings and excessive taxonomizing, we defend her.

Gen X Man is the mystic translator of generations. We are fluent in boomer ways but understand this New World in ways boomers never could. We appreciate the issues facing Zoomers and Millennials on an emotional level because we were on the front-end of the forces that fuel them. We are versed in the soft edges of contemporary professional culture. Instead of reflexively saying whatever and nevermind like we did when we were younger, we now say that’s interesting and let me think about it.

I mean let’s be real: Gen X Man built the New World we are all adapting to. Everyone else is just living in it. We are the ones who grabbed the machete, whacked away the weeds, and laid its foundation. We are the one who ditched the corporate path and built Big Tech. We are the ones who saw the failures of the government and built around it — SpaceX, Google, crypto, you name it. We are builders of worlds, like Zeus or Brahma but lower key. Is there any area of life Gen X Man hasn’t had to reinvent?

No one personifies the best and worst of our generation more than Elon Musk: Inventive as hell yet politically and geopolitically naive. Brilliant and visionary yet depressed and on ketamine. The richest man in the world yet still complaining about “elites.” Elon is our Bruce Wayne, our Dark Night.

What is with Gen X Man’s refusal to accept our own eliteness, anyways? I suppose it’s because, while boomers cling to power in old institutions, the social and political order of this New World is still taking root. Hence, Gen X Man has to reinvent what it means to be elite, once again laying groundwork for Millennials and Zoomers to build on. My work-around is to be the elite you wish to see.

Gen X Man was the last generation to grow up during the Cold War, and we never miss an opportunity to gloat about our childhoods in the 1980s. As a boy, I watched Rambo and Red Dawn and killed communists with imaginary machine guns. I identified the boys in the Goonies, the nerds in Sixteen Candles, the goths in Lost Boys, and the Christian Slater character in Pump up the Volume. Our childhoods were free-range AF. We enjoyed the fruits of a high-trust society until, like the break-up of my family, things changed.

Maybe this is why so many of us are doomers today — because we know what was lost. Gen X Man doesn’t appreciate that doomerism is a luxury belief younger people cannot afford. This is why I exhort us to move past it and forge new, optimistic paths into the future.

Gen X Man admires the collaborative, tech-savvy ways of younger guys even as we want to slap them upside the head. When Gen X Man and Late Millennial Man partner, we are unstoppable. But, like brothers with wildly different personalities, it isn’t easy to get along.

It’s easier for us to get along with Zoomers because they are many of our children. One Gen X Man I know asked his Zoomer Son, “What is with your ironic detachment?”

His son looked up and eyed Gen X Man. “I learned it from you.”

“Oh,” replied Gen X Man, reminded of the anti-drug PSA from his youth. “Right.”

Gen X Man doesn’t need to be seen, acknowledged, and validated the way Late Millennial Man does. Nor do we need to be reparented and rehabbed the way Zoomer Man does. We define ourselves by NOT BEING NEEDY, even though we secretly want people to recognize how awesome we are, and how important we are to building this New World.

The thing Gen X Man doesn’t realize, the thing we haven’t yet absorbed, is that everyone wants us to step up and LEAD MORE, especially as boomers exit over the next decade. Zoomers and Millennials may mock us, but they want us to be the dad, big-brother, or uncle figure who cares. They want us to create more structure for navigating this New World; to chair, advise and invest in their enterprises; to fat-shame them with love and a playbook to get fit, sober, and healthy. Do we realize this? Do we care?

Younger guys need Gen X Man more than we realize — much more than they are willing to say. I get that it is easier to do our own thing, to hunker down and focus on our own jobs and families, to force others to figure it out for themselves the way we had to. I feel that too.

But shouldn’t we give more than we got? Isn’t this the code of the Gen X Man and how we differ from boomers?

Now that we are on the far side of our midlife crises, the world is calling us to be elder-statesmen for this New World. What happens when we heed the call? 

I don’t have a ready answer, but perhaps we should find out. I believe this New World needs Gen X Man’s leadership to become whole. Who cares whether this would make us great. Gen X Man just wants to be helpful.

Check out our coaching directory with 25+ coaches who work with men. This is the output of last Friday’s thread. I hope to build this into a useful resource. Thank you.

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Happy Father's Day! One of my goals this month is to experiment on Substack. You may notice an uptick in activity and content types over the next few weeks. (I did my first-ever voiceover for this piece.) Thanks for your patience and support. - Jeff

On the second day after my son was born, I took him with me to dinner at an Italian bistro. It was a perfect summer evening in Wilmette, Illinois — 70 degrees, a setting sun, and a neighborhood backdrop straight out of a John Hughes movie. We were sitting in a relaxed patio environment. My newborn nugget was sleeping in his brand new stroller next to the table. Over the course of dinner, I must’ve checked on him like every 30 seconds. Was it bad to bring a baby to a restaurant on his second day of life? I had no clue.

At the end of the dinner, an old guy who looked like the quintessential Midwestern grandfather walked over to my table. He leaned over, put his hand on my shoulder, and said, “You're going to be a good dad.” I must’ve had NEW DAD AND CLUELESS written all over my face. I thanked him and he walked away just in time to miss the tear in my eye. His words meant so much to me at the time. I hope to pass along that assurance to new and soon-to-be dads today.

Being a dad is exhausting. AND, it’s the best thing ever. A few weeks ago, I came home late after a long day and found a note from my son asking me to rough house. He's six and learning to write complete sentences, and something about that note touched me. Fatherhood is full of simple joys like this.

Being a dad is an opportunity to be a better man, and I hope you take it. I am a Tenderfoot by dad standards, and it’s already shaped me. For one thing, it delivered a knock-out blow to my Peter Pan Syndrome. It’s also taken nihilism off the table as a coping mechanism. Saying screw it and drinking myself to death is no longer an option. Every single day I have a mission and a focus. It’s not about me any more.

Before having kids, I didn’t realize how universalizing fatherhood is, though it seems obvious now. Fatherhood is this flowing river we all swim in. Time marches on and the river takes new shape, but the experience is pretty similar across regions, cultures, and generations. You will soon be in this river. It will baptize you.

Being a dad is a sacred rite, a blood oath, a heroic mission. The technical circumstances are unimportant. Maybe you are a step-dad, an adoptive parent, or an uncle stepping in. Maybe you have a super-fertile wife, disavow contraception, and this will be your first of seven kids. It doesn't matter. The universe will see the quiet majesty of your dad-ness. You will feel it within you.

What does matter is that you show up for your kids — listen, provide, and nurture them. Life happens: divorce, health issues, job layoffs. You just have to hold onto your mission to be a good dad and do the best you can under the circumstances. Your kids will recognize that. They will feel it.

Being a dad will shape your identity in ways that are hard to explain. As a gay guy as well as a dad, June is an interesting month for me. Pride is the entire month and, in case you haven’t noticed, there's a lot of cultural noise around it. Then there's Father's Day, a quiet Sunday morning eating chocolate-chip pancakes with my son. The contrast is interesting, even on an emotional level. Gay pride is the pride of a peacock. It is loud and flashy and sometimes can’t shut up. I am not belittling it; it is a coping mechanism for years of shame. The pride I feel among dads, on the other hand, is not pride at all but the quiet confidence of a lion. It is solemn and majestic. It doesn’t demand attention, though I wish our culture would give more weight to it.

There will be times that challenge you. I only have one kid, and sometimes it’s a struggle! As a dad, it is important to carve out time to cope and reground in healthy ways — lifting weights, hiking, wood-working, or whatever. One of my favorite new coping mechanisms is taking long walks at night; these walks have replaced bourbon as my go-to way to relax at the end of a long day.

Someday, I hope to have the grandfatherly gravitas of that old guy who put his hand on my shoulder and assured me when I needed it most. I am far from that today — I’m in the weeds of parenting and still learning.

Nevertheless, I want you to know that I believe in you, even with your cracked and broken pieces. You are going to be a good dad.

You’ve got this.

I will save you some chocolate-chip pancakes.

Theme song: “Here comes the sun” by the Beatles

Jeff Giesea is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.