The prevailing sentiment among many Americans today is a profound sense of rapid societal deterioration. Various voices attribute this perceived decline to numerous culprits – the media, social platforms, either the Democrats or the Republicans, or a multitude of recent political events and stories.

However, I propose an alternative interpretation: this notion of a swift and precipitous decline is, in fact, a misconception. Indeed, cultural issues persist—this is indisputable. The controversies surrounding transgender rights, the rampant polarization of politics, and the war in Eastern Europe are palpable realities that contribute to a sense of societal chaos. Yet, the perception that these problems have arisen swiftly, or that they signal an impending societal collapse, may be rooted not in these issues themselves, but in an underlying, yet unexplored, phenomenon.

The task then becomes not to debate the severity of these individual issues, but to understand what is driving this amplified sense of urgency and despair. This perspective offers a fresh approach to understanding and addressing our current societal challenges.

Just a year before my birth in 1992, the world grappled with the specter of total annihilation during the Cold War. This period, filled with immense tension and danger, presented an existential threat arguably greater than any we confront today. Not only societal norms, but the very existence of our planet was imperiled by the looming threat of nuclear apocalypse.

Yet, amid the cacophony of contemporary political discourse, commentators across the political spectrum herald the imminent fall of the country due to shifting political landscapes, rampant protests, and upended cultural norms. While we should not dismiss these challenges, we should put them into perspective. Our world has stared into the abyss of far greater threats, such as the devastating World Wars where millions perished in gruesome ground battles, and yet, society has persevered. The Earth continues its endless orbit around the sun.

The intention here is not to downplay the trials of our era but to provide a broader context. It’s critical to realize that despite our societal anxieties, history shows our capacity to endure and overcome even greater challenges.

Since the dissolution of the Soviet Union, the world – especially America – has experienced a period of deceptive calm, a “quiet before the storm”. Yet, beneath the surface, tensions have been mounting, culminating in what I suspect to be the advent of our next great global conflict.

My generation, in particular, lacks firsthand experience of major conflict. Aside from the 9/11 terror attacks, we’ve been spared the harrowing trials of global wars, near-apocalyptic threats, and widespread social unrest that previous generations faced.

A recent conversation with peers on the unfolding crisis in Ukraine underscored this generational divide. When I suggested we could be teetering on the brink of a major global conflict, complete with potential draft implications, my concerns were dismissed. One peer even stated, “The draft doesn’t happen anymore, that’s just a thing of the past.”

This interaction provoked considerable reflection. Has the extended lull in major global conflicts fostered a false sense of invincibility, causing us to believe that drafts and major wars are mere relics of a bygone era? And more importantly, how have we, as a society, allowed such a complacent and naive mindset to permeate our culture? 

Our societal issues stem from our inability to uphold the cultural dialogue that once fueled our success. From educational institutions to casual neighborhood chatter, a disheartening silence has descended over America. Genuine conversation has largely been replaced with impersonal text exchanges. Members of my generation seldom engage in in-depth social, cultural, or political discourse.

When these vital discussions do take place, they often occur behind the safety of a screen, where nuances of tone and expression are lost. This impersonal form of communication often precipitates heated online debates, which tend to result in more frustration than understanding. Such negative experiences discourage in-person discussions on these critical topics. Instead, our culture has become more insular, with people increasingly staying within their digital bubbles, where everyone agrees with their opinions, and debate is reduced to an echo chamber.

“To me, consensus seems to be the process of abandoning all beliefs, principles, values, and policies. So it is something in which no one believes and to which no one objects.”

– Margaret Thatcher

This deterioration in conversation quality and frequency, I argue, has left us unprepared for the return of global conflict. Our culture has grown unaccustomed to strife, as our previous ‘quiet period’ shielded us from its reality. Now, as conflict looms once again, we’re grappling with a deep-seated fear of the unknown, an unpreparedness born from years of conversational and societal complacency.

So what is the solution? How can we dispel the pervasive anxiety that is gripping the minds of ordinary Americans today? Who can guide the nation back onto the right track?

The answer has always been the same throughout human history, particularly during periods of great conflict and war. The group capable of quelling the day’s fear and anxiety, of altering the trajectory of societal unrest, is young men. To be specific, young men of conviction and courage, ready and willing to stand tall and lead when the need arises. It is these men who have traditionally taken the lead in times of battle, just like those who stormed the beaches of Normandy and parachuted into Nazi-controlled territories during World War II. The same caliber of young men is needed today, perhaps more than ever.

Yet where are these young men? Today’s culture seems scant of them; few are willing to assert their opinions fearlessly. Though there are exceptions, they are depressingly few. I reflect on my university years, often finding myself as the sole interrogator of the indoctrination spewed by our professors. But why were my peers not joining in this crucial questioning?

I suspect that this lack of young men willing to confront the rising tide of conflict correlates with the point I touched upon in my other discussion: men today are disconnected, feeling isolated by an educational system and society that devalues traditional masculinity. Instead, our culture seems to castigate them with terms like “toxic masculinity” or “angry white men”, which have become pervasive in our cultural lexicon.

This sentiment is frequently echoed by conservative voices, as well as supporters of figures like Dr. Jordan Peterson, hailed as a champion for the disaffected young men. Dr. Peterson proposes that young men are belittled, labelled as the source of all societal ills, which leaves them dispirited and disinclined to defend themselves. While I generally align with his work, I respectfully disagree with his perspective on young men.

Young men, in my view, should not be indulged. As a once rebellious teen, I realized the most effective way to connect with recalcitrant young men was not through empathetic conversation, but through a metaphorical ‘kick in the ass.’

We find ourselves in an era obsessed with introspection and emotional dialogue. While this approach can be effective for aiding men grappling with personal troubles, it utterly fails to motivate the men we sorely need today – those, to put it bluntly, who are coasting. We need the voices of men unbothered by the cultural chaos, not because they are apathetic, but because they are thriving like never before. Reduced competition and increased opportunities, thanks to a decline in ambitious peers, have eased their path. However, we must stimulate these men to engage in our society’s challenging conversations and take the difficult, less trodden path.

My firsthand experience with this reality came when I shifted careers into the trades. Starting as a mechanic, my initial encounter in a real job setting was an enlightening one. The owner, during our first meeting, asked about my preferred work hours. Confused, I responded, “When are you open?” His answer, that the shop operated six days a week from 8am to 6pm, seemed reasonable to me, so I agreed readily.

His taken aback reaction puzzled me. His concern that I’d “burn out” struck me as odd. Here I was, a 23-year-old trying to rapidly gain as much experience as possible to kickstart a new career trajectory. The idea of burning out seemed farfetched. Upon sharing my viewpoint with him, he relented, agreeing to let me work those hours. Thus, I embarked on my journey as an apprentice mechanic.

Fast forward three months into my job, I had yet to miss a single day. On weekends, I would manage both office work and car repairs, given the limited staff. During my 90-day evaluation, my boss shared something that seemed perplexing at the moment but now makes perfect sense.

He expressed his satisfaction with my swift learning and performance. But what struck me was when he revealed I was the sixth apprentice they’d tried to hire within the past year. None of my predecessors lasted beyond a couple of months, often calling in sick and working fewer hours. At that time, I took this information as a badge of honor and kept striving to excel in my new role. As time went on, I grew from an inexperienced newcomer to a proficient mechanic, well-regarded in my community.

Looking back on my early career, I find myself in contemplation. Out of six of us, it was only I who dove headfirst into the demanding journey of gaining and perfecting a new skill set, and pushing for excellence in an unfamiliar field. Why was my path an anomaly? What of the other five who abandoned the course? Their absence resonated beyond the confines of the shop; it reflected a broader void in our society – a deficit of resolute young men willing to endure hardship and forge their unique paths.

Now, I grasp that men like me, who face complexities head-on and relentlessly chase excellence, have a far greater obligation. This responsibility extends beyond exploiting the lack of competition. We are destined to be on the frontlines, confronting our society’s challenges. We must resist the cultural upheaval that threatens to engulf our cherished values and question the narratives that are often accepted without a second thought.

This role we shoulder is not solely about preserving our trades or fields; it’s about safeguarding the fundamental tenets that form the bedrock of our society. It’s about advocating for intellectual rigor, fostering open dialogue, and cherishing diverse perspectives. It’s about harnessing the courage to question irrationalities, to challenge popular opinions when they veer from truth, rather than blindly conforming.

We are the men tasked with leading this crucial battle for our culture’s integrity. The narrative painting all men as agents of societal discord begs re-evaluation. It’s high time we reshaped what it means to be a man in today’s world – to prove that masculinity embodies resilience, perseverance, intellectual prowess, and respect for the individuality of others.

It’s not enough for one in six to stand tall; we need more men to ascend, to accept their obligations not merely in their workplaces, but also within their communities. We need them to wield their voices not just for individual advancement, but for the elevation of our society. Because only through engagement, through challenging the status quo, and by leading can we hope to effect meaningful change.

For a time, I grappled with self-doubt, the pestering question – ‘Who am I to make a difference?’ Residing in a small Ohio town, laboring as a mechanic, I questioned my potential to stimulate change in a world so extensive and cacophonous. It’s a concern that nibbles at many of us, nurturing the apathy, the ‘laziness’ that has become so characteristic of our era.

It dawned on me that this line of thinking was part of the predicament. Our worth, our potency to enact change, doesn’t hinge on our professions, our whereabouts, or our status. We’re not inconsequential because our voices are solitary echoes in the wilderness; instead, we become inconsequential when we allow those voices to waver, when we surrender to silence.

Our authentic power resides in our conviction, in our audacity to challenge the storm, irrespective of how isolated or diminutive our voice may appear. As this realization settled, I pledged to project my voice into the discourse, to contribute to the conversation which urgently necessitates more measured, thoughtful participants.

The outcomes of my actions? They remain unseen, veiled in the uncertainty of the future. But I don’t write for certain outcomes. I don’t write to shake the world. I write because I am compelled to, because through my words, I find clarity and purpose. I write because I believe in the power of ideas, of discourse, of challenging the static silence that pervades our culture. 

And as I pen down my thoughts, I find solace and strength in my faith. It was through His guidance that I embarked on this journey of writing, of articulating my views in a world that often seems deaf to dissenting voices. And so, I hold onto faith. Faith in the purpose of my actions, faith in the potential impact of my words, and ultimately, faith in the transformative power of earnest, courageous voices. The rest, I leave to God.