Walz, Vance and dude bro cage matches
In her speech at the Democratic National Convention, Hillary Clinton declared her vision of seeing Kamala Harris on “the other side of the highest glass ceiling.” It is a line that went over better than her 1998 statement that there is a “vast right-wing conspiracy” designed to undermine Democrats. Once again, with the possibility of electing the first female president, the culture’s ability to reshape what it means to be a woman in America is on display.
But when we focus on the vice presidential candidates, there is a different sort of gender construction occurring, another vast conspiracy, but this one focused on the construction of masculinity in America. Our media ecosystem has evolved into an assembly line fixated on cartoon masculinity, which takes “boys-will-be-boys” boys and turns them into MAGA-men. But the selection of Tim Walz who provides an alternative, albeit older model of what it means to be a man may disrupt this process. This difference is apparent when we look at how masculinity is presented at the conventions and in the campaigns more broadly.
Scholars like Susan Faludi have argued for decades that progressive social change that has helped women break glass ceilings has created challenges for men. Recent data from 2021 shows that women outpace men for degree completion on every level, and Bachelor’s degrees dropped to 42 percent male share, the lowest number on record. Well-paying, high-status positions, once given to less-qualified men because of structural sexism, are now earned by women.
The men denied these jobs have become resentful. That grievance is a niche ripe for exploitation, and that allowed for the development of a media conveyor belt that starts with young children and flows through adulthood. The curtain was pulled back on this process with Hulk Hogan’s appearance at the Republican National Convention.
Young boys are initiated into the machine through professional wrestling, which presents live-action cartoon characters with narratives around muscle-bound images of what it is to be a real man. Teenage boys graduate from the scripted theater of WWE to the raw violence of the UFC, a mixture of boxing, wrestling, and martial arts. The aggression becomes more genuine, but the image of masculinity remains the same cartoon.
College-aged young men move onto podcasts like Jordan Peterson, Joe Rogan, and Tom Leykis who champion a gender war, telling these dude-bros that they are being emasculated. Alpha males need to reclaim their birthright: cultural, professional, personal, and sexual dominance. The models of that approach are presented on social media where influencers like Andrew Tate and Logan Paul tell them to reclaim their birthright: cultural, professional, personal, and sexual dominance. This is why, just before the convention, former President Trump appeared on YouTube with Adin Ross showing the online component of the process.
The Access Hollywood tape of the former President saying he grabs women where he does because when you are famous, they let you do it, was not shocking, but in line with what they have been taught. If you are famous, if you are a real man, they let you do that. That is to be celebrated, these influencers contend, not condemned.
When J.D. Vance rails against “childless cat ladies,” they already resent the women out-competing them in the workplace, where they can’t even call them the b- or c-word anymore without getting sent to Human Resources. These women must be unhappy, Vance argues, because they do not accept their natural place beneath men, as attractive wombs, not self-sufficient people with hopes and dreams other than a wedding and raising kids.
Then came Tim Walz, willing to stand behind a Black woman, a double traitor to MAGA-men. He advocates for a woman’s right to choose and the freedom to pursue their dreams. In the language of cartoon masculinity, he is a beta, a cuck, and other updated versions of wuss, wimp, and the f-word.
Their problem is that he is manly, even by their own traditional definitions. He explains how to fix cars. He is a soldier, and an enlisted man at that. Not only that, but he fishes and hunts, having won the annual congressional skeet shoot, making him a better marksman than the members of the GOP whose worship of weapons makes them more than willing to bury massacred children under the Second Amendment.
Walz is the old image of masculinity, the good man, a hybrid of Jimmy Stewart and Steve McQueen. The irony is that in deflating cartoon masculinity, Walz too has become a cartoon. Social media abounds with memes of Walz as the man who looks out for his family, takes care of his business, and makes corny dad jokes. “I just know Tim Walz could teach me how to drive stick shift without making me cry once,” one reads.
Cartoon masculinity, of course, rages at this, demanding a cage match. And this too has emerged. “Tim Walz is the guy who will mow your lawn when you break your leg. J.D. Vance is the guy who reports your unmowed lawn to the HOA.” “Tim Walz is the guy who asks you if you need help with the creepy guy in the bar. J.D. Vance is the creepy guy in the bar.”
Now, these two cartoons are facing off, in the style of professional wrestling, in a cage match where two go in and one comes out. The fight is one not only for the White House but also to define manhood in America. It will be interesting to see who wins.
Co-written with Professor Steve Gimbel. Dr. Gimbel is the Bittenger Chair of Philosophy at Gettysburg College. Gimbel is also a professor of Jewish Studies. He was a one time finalist of the National Jewish Book award for ‘Einstein’s Jewish Science’ and is the author of ’Philosophy of Humor.’