Where Did All The Dudes go?
Men and Boys aren't reading fiction. Here are the reasons why.
So here’s one from the New York Times that got my synapses firing on all cylinders: Why Did the Novel-Reading Man Disappear? An interesting article that speaks to a prevalent phenomenon: Men (namely straight man) are giving up on fiction in large numbers. Some have even given up, entirely.
The NYT article in question begins with an anecdote from Yahdon Isreal, senior editor of Simon & Schuster. Mr. Israel asks his book club to bring in their favorite piece of fiction to their next meeting. His club, consisting entirely of men, and intentionally so, turned in all manner of books from their personal libraries.
The only problem: most of these books could hardly be labeled fiction.
Some were self-help books, others memoirs. Some members even brought in their favorite graphic novels (which technically fit the bill…) Inquiries as to what recent novels have caught their attention were met with blank stares and crickets. When asked who their favorite female author was, well…..
The point is plain to see. Men aren’t engaging with fiction in the way that women engage with fiction.
Though some from the rafters argue that interest in “reading” has hit an all time low, the numbers argue otherwise. The Association of American Publishers site a year-to-date revenue increase of 6.5% over the last two years across print, digital and audio formats.
2024 alone saw an uptick in print fiction sales, largely due to the popularity of BookTok sensations like “A Court of Thorns and Roses,” “It Ends With Us,” “Atomic Habits,” and “The Housemaid.”
Needless to say, general interest is there. But where did all the dudes go?
A cursory glance of the 2024 mega-sellers list outlines an interesting trend. The majority of these books cater either towards women or the general self-help crowd. This has been the trend for the last four years.
The takeaway? To succeed in publishing, you either have to skew your book towards genres popular with women and girls like the “romantacy” or speak to some personal wellness trend.
How did it come to this?
Well, as to the mystery of the missing dudes, I think the issue is plain to see. Here are handful of data points that might explain the situation better.
1. Video Games are the new norm.
We’ve come along way from those cartridge-crazed days of the 90’s and early aught’s when video games were tied to our television sets. Gaming is now omnipresent, forever in our pockets, and available at the tap of an app.
They’re marketed towards the young and ensure hours of entertainment so long as you as you have time to invest. Precious time that is not invested in literature. A report from Tech, Media, and Telecom shows that reading habits are formed in adolescence, and broadened by repeated habit.
These are habits that are brought upon and nurtured by parental figures. But studies show that father’s are less likely to read, themselves, meaning that boys are deprived of male reading role-models. Fathers are also less likely to read to their sons as opposed to their daughters. With a lack of foundational lessons pertinent to healthy reading habits, it’s no wonder that boys invest their time in video games.
We should also consider the social factor. A survey showed that boys and men are experiencing a “friendship recession” following the pandemic, in where fostering life-long friendships becomes a huge problem. Video games provide a stress-free, faceless alternative to the former, thus solving the perennial issue of male loneliness. Something that books can’t provide, given their inherent nature.
2. Grind, baby, Grind
For young men, we need look no further than the prevalence of “hustle culture.” This uniquely American-male inclination towards a grind mentality compels our male cohort (mostly young) to invest their time exclusively in those subjects that breed immediate financial success.
In its best application, hustle culture can promote productivity in wayward, young men looking for structure. At worst, it manifests toxic mentalities that deemphasize empathy and respect. Especially when taken in tandem with the rise of the “Manosphere,” with all of its toxic personalities. Some in this enclave even revel in their anti-intellectual miasma. Not ideal!
Find yourself with some leisure time? You are a loser. Is that a book in your hand? It better be on financing and how to maximize investments.
Of course, there’s nothing wrong with books that help sharpen personal life skills. The purpose of books is to provide knowledge and support so there’s nothing wrong with wanting to add an extra bow to your quiver.
But to deprive ourselves of stories birthed from the imaginations of creative individuals would be to deprive ourselves of the human experience. I read self-help books to learn how best to invest my money. a particle solution to a practical problem.
I read fiction so that I can connect with other like-minded individuals who’s truths are not so different from mine. I read fiction so that I can be swept up in the human experiment—our never-ending search for truth in the world. These are wonderful things. To understand fiction, is to understand empathy and inclusion.
Now I know, it’s incredibly hilarious to write a blog post asking that we sympathize with male readers, considering that most recorded fiction in history is written by men, for men. But it’s a righteous cause! and the issues are plain to see and easy to remedy.
3. My kingdom for a book club.
Take a second and google “Popular book clubs.” Whats the first thing you notice? Well, If your algorithm is anything like mine, you’ll notice that most are run by women, for women. This is a great thing! Of course, female empowerment is important, especially in a world that’s more connected than ever. But maybe a gender flip can help the cause, if only a smidge?
Male-driven book clubs can go along way towards bridging that gap and get more great fiction into the hands of boys and men curious in the NYT top ten books lists. As long as these book clubs vary their subject matter and promote inclusion and curiosity, I fail to see how this could register as a negative.
Sure, Barack Obama releases his much anticipated year-end lists on a constant basis, but where’s George Clooney’s book club? Kevin Hart’s? Adam Sandler’s? Martin Scorsese’s? Lebron James! Get off the court and help us out!
We need to get the male-Hollywood, influencer intelligentsia on this, stat!
So now, what then?
Perhaps the issue could be the speed at which life comes at us. As the years stack up, so do our responsibilities. The bills, the children, our multiple jobs. There exists, in adolescences, a small window in where childhood splendor begins to recede and the encroaching specter of adulthood lies just beyond the horizon—it’s this mercurial middle region where habits are sown.
I recall the year I turn twenty. I was lost, virtually friendless—When I wasn’t at community college, I was lazing about at my parents home, playing video games, wasting away. I didn’t have a car, so public transportation became a way of life. This was a profoundly quiet time in my life devoid of responsibilities.
One day, my old android phone, long worn, had lost charge. Fearing the droning hum of a long bus ride, I booked it to the community college library and picked out a random aisle in the fiction section. With the bus due to arrive any minute, I quickly picked out the first book that caught my eye: a hardcover book devoid of pictures or obvious descriptors.
It was East of Eden, by John Steinbeck.
I checked it out of the library, despite it’s scary length and size. My honest thinking was that, at worst, I’d return it the next day. I loaded onto the bus that lead me towards my life of quiet nothingness, and came out the end a lover of fiction.
Can I communicate what I felt in the moment? I try, but every attempt feels like a failure. But! this is what fiction can do. I’m better for making the time and commitment to this art, and everyone deserves to feel the same.