Are modern men wimps? Also: Who cares if they are?
In the opening lines of his new book, "Manthropology: The Science of the Inadequate Modern Male," anthropologist Peter McAllister writes, "If you're reading this then you--or the male you have bought it for--are the worst man in history. No ifs, no buts--the worst man, period...As a class we are in fact the sorriest cohort of masculine Homo sapiens to ever walk the planet."
CRIPES!
McAllister's theory has more to do with physicality--things like strength, speed, and endurance--than it does modern man's emotional state or intellectual acuity. The Australian scientist based his research on a variety of sources--from 20,000-year-old fossilized footprints to photographs taken as recently as early last century--and concluded that all of our male ancestors could run faster, jump higher, and row harder than any men living today, even our most well-trained athletes.
"We are so inactive these days and have been since the industrial revolution really kicked into gear," McAllister told Reuters. "These people were much more robust than we were."
McAllister's sad, flabby reality makes sense, really, when you consider that most men spend their lives sitting in front of computers, not out hunting for food. However, the fact that this weakness, or "wimpiness," isn't really men's fault (our societies have changed! We're all softer and lazier!), hasn't stopped some women writers from pouncing on McAllister's findings and using them as an excuse to bash our male counterparts.
Take, for example, columnist Liz Jones who wrote in yesterday's Daily Mail:
"Modern man has evolved, due to his love of cars and fast food, into a blob with all the muscle tone and definition of a slug...These men might all wear trainers and tracksuits and workwear such as denim jeans and combat trousers, but it is all just dressing up, an illusion, a hark back to the days when men actually knew how to do physical things like, ooh, I don't know, put in a light bulb or change a duvet cover or make love to a woman."
She goes on to say, "What poor, sad creatures modern men are. What wimps. What wastes of space."
Whoa! Bitter much, lady?
Now, I don't know what kind of world Ms. Jones is living in, but honestly, I don't need my husband to be able to throw a javelin, protect me from wildebeests, or row our canoe quickly to safety while we're being chased by some prehistoric Swamp Thing. What I do need is for him to listen to what I'm saying, to understand who I am, to love me monogamously, to earn money so he can share the bills, and to sometimes fix the WiFi when the modem goes down. And these are things he can accomplish whether he's a wimp, a slug, or, even, the sorriest masculine Homo sapien ever to walk the Earth.
