Dangerous Men: Rethinking Fatherhood, Masculinity and Emotional Safety

Defining what a “man” is and how we can raise good men

International Men’s Day celebrates the positive value men bring to the world, their families and communities, highlights positive role models and raises awareness of men’s wellbeing. To mark International Men’s Day 2025, we asked Class of 2025 graduate Dr Ollie Bell to share his thoughts on the current conversations around masculinity (inspired in part by TV series such as Adolescence) and how he’s stepping up to be a good role model for his sons.

Ollie holds a PhD in Men’s Health from Newcastle University, where his research explored how to engage men in health and wellbeing. His career has focused on improving workplace culture, behaviour change, and wellbeing – especially in industries where these conversations don’t always come easily. Outside of work, Ollie’s most important role is being a dad to two boys, which shapes much of how he thinks about health, purpose, and what really matters.

Are all men masculine, and do you have to be masculine to be a man?

I have noticed an increasing trend recently in societal discussions relating to masculinities and men. In 2025, TV series such as Adolescence and books like “What about Men?” by Caitlin Moran have highlighted masculinity, boys, fathers, and some of the darker corners of the internet. This year is also the first time I’ve been asked to share thoughts on Men and Masculinities for International Men’s Day. Although I’m delighted to share thoughts beyond the occasional late-night pub debate, this request does interest me. I’m interested because I find myself asking “Why? Why are we focussing on this now?”. I certainly don’t have all the answers to this question but like most problems I face, I think it’s important to start by defining simple terminology.

Masculinity refers to behaviours and roles traditionally associated with men and boys. Some of these behaviours we define as toxic – sexism, misogyny and aggression. They create fear and risk people’s health and safety. They also put the individual demonstrating them at risk too.

But not all masculine behaviours are toxic, some can be healthy. Competitiveness, risk seeking, or camaraderie are all behaviours which can create joy or happiness. Taking part in sports, looking for the next opportunity in business, or being part of a group where you feel like you belong can all contribute to improved health and happiness.

Not all masculine behaviours are toxic, some can be healthy. Competitiveness, risk seeking, or camaraderie are all behaviours which can create joy or happiness.

So are all men masculine, and do you have to be masculine to be a man? Well, no. In fact, I would argue that what it means to be a man is extremely difficult to define. That’s because my perception of a “man” may be very different from yours. It’s subjective.

The role of a man throughout the generations

The role of a man at home and in society has changed across generations. My Grandad’s role was very different from the one I adopt now. He was a stoic, never admitted weakness and most certainly never expressed love. He was not different to others around him, and he likely behaved in the same way as his role models. When my grandparents married, he was the breadwinner. If he didn’t work, there was no money and subsequently no food. For a man of his generation, to articulate a psychological difficulty or be diagnosed with a mental illness would bring stigma and likely discrimination. The consequences of this could be a threat to securing work. During this generation, to talk openly about internal emotions or psychological difficulties was a financial risk not worth taking.

My Dad actively tried to parent differently from his dad. He read bedtime stories, tucked me in at night, kissed my forehead and told me he loved me. Society had progressed from when my Dad was a boy, meaning it was more acceptable for him to parent this way. There were TV, film and cultural examples of men expressing emotion and weaknesses. The Cure’s “Boys Don’t Cry” is a great example of this.

My Grandad died a few years ago. Before he passed away, he told my Dad he loved him for the first time. My Dad was 60 and this experience clearly shaped how he subsequently expresses emotions. He tells me he loves me regularly, but we don’t go much deeper than that. Talking about work, football or comedy is easy, but to explain how we feel would be very difficult.

I try to give my boys the time and space to share their emotions with me. We never trivialise the emotion or judge each other for experiencing it.

Raising boys

Like most, I took lessons on how to raise my two boys from my own parents – the good and the bad. I try to give my boys the time and space to share their emotions with me. When they experience anger or sadness, we pause, we breathe, and we discuss why they might be experiencing that emotion. We never trivialise the emotion or judge each other for experiencing it. It’s not always easy to remember, it doesn’t always come naturally, and my wife and I don’t always have the time to practice this. But we try because we know that it will have an impact on how our boys process and express emotions as adults. I believe this to be an essential skill for longevity.

The skills to process and communicate emotions has evolved rapidly within men across my lifetime. Despite being a creative thinker, my imagination struggles to envisage my Grandad using an emotion wheel with my Dad when he was little. It’s more likely that a clip around the ear and a stiff upper lip would have been the cure. And I think that’s one of multiple changes to how men, and dads, now behave in society.

I remember wearing a baby carrier for the first time. I loved it. I could walk around and smell the top of my son’s head at the same time. I’m not sure if it’s the yellow car effect (when you become aware of yellow cars, that’s all you will see), but my awareness of men wearing baby carriers skyrocketed for me. It’s not something I remember my Dad or the dads around him doing.

I am regularly surrounded by other men who I would proudly call good fathers. We are active participants in the lives of our children. We have a voice in how we raise them. We push our children downhill on their bikes, and we cuddle them when they fall. Our roles encourage love and care as much as they introduce risk. I think it’s important that we do both.

I am regularly surrounded by other men who I would proudly call good fathers. Our roles encourage love and care as much as they introduce risk. I think it’s important that we do both.

My mate Dan is a great example of this. Recently a group of dads and kids came round to my house so our kids could play, and the dads could drink a couple of beers. I found a small pink purse after everyone left. I posted a picture in our group hoping that the owner would speak up. Dan responded with “ye that’s mine, it fits 3 cans of beer in perfectly”. It made me smile not only because using your 3-year-old daughter’s pink purse to carry such an unusual number of beers is funny, but because with that little joke he actively contradicted traditional masculine ideals. He fought against what we were told when we were boys about what it meant to be a man. I don’t think that was his intention, but it clearly demonstrated to me how dads, and men, have changed across time.

Opening up

One quite obvious change, and the area I am closest to, is the perception of mental health in society. The acceptance of mental ill health has progressed rapidly in the last 10 years and men are now actively encouraged to “speak out” or told that “it’s ok not to be ok”. Although this is clearly a beneficial message, I still think speaking out is easier said than done. To do so takes bravery and requires psychological safety and the language to describe such emotions. Despite changes in societal opinion on mental health, psychological safety and mental health literacy is still really difficult for some men.

Speaking out is easier said than done. To speak out not only takes bravery but requires psychological safety and the language to describe such emotions.

Psychological safety means feeling safe to take interpersonal risks, like expressing vulnerability, without fear of negative consequences. In my training sessions across a wide range of businesses and industries, I regularly hear about the fear of being sacked or treated differently (sometimes from those with the best intentions), when disclosing psychological difficulties. Despite my argument that this contradicts employment law, the fear is still real and the criterion for psychological safety is not met.

On the occasions where someone does feel safe when sharing emotions, it could still be really difficult for them to articulate feelings. The social acceptance to “open up” only really gathered momentum within the last 10 years. Prior to this, huge numbers of people, me included, had never practiced “opening up” before. In fact, we were discouraged to do it. It was not readily acceptable for me to share emotions as a young boy. Unlike my boys, I didn’t have an emotion wheel. I was never told to label my emotions or to describe how I felt. So, to ask me to do that now is really hard. I don’t have the vocabulary to do it.

The manosphere

When things change quickly, it leaves people behind. When people are left behind, they can experience isolation, loneliness or fear. We know isolation and loneliness not only contribute to mental ill health but also result in people naturally looking for others to help. Sometimes that help comes from communities who share similar identities. These communities reach out and say “hey, you’re not alone”. However, if that is followed by “and the reason why you feel this way is because of that group over there”, then I believe this is where fractions between communities can arise.

We know isolation and loneliness not only contribute to mental ill health but also result in people naturally looking for others to help. Sometimes that help comes from communities who share similar identities.

I want to pause here and highlight that I am not a Social Scientist. I do not understand the complexities of communities, or what drives people to one social group over another. However, my understanding of the generational differences between the definition of “a man” helps me to contextualise why there is a growing interest in men, masculinities and communities such as incel culture or the manosphere.

The rapid change in what it means to be a man may have left certain people feeling lost, lonely, isolated and looking for a connection with like-minded people. While not all communities are harmful, there are examples where unhealthy and dangerous role models can step in. As a parent of two young boys who may fall victim to these groups, I am scared. That fear drives my motivation to demonstrate how I believe a man should behave. I know that this will create a role model for my boys, so they are not distracted by other unhealthy archetypes of “men” in society.

As a parent of two young boys who may fall victim to these groups, I am scared. That fear drives my motivation to demonstrate how I believe a man should behave.

So, what do I think it means to be a man or a boy? I heard a poem recently which stuck with me. “If I ever have boys, they will be dangerous men.”. The poem discusses how a dangerous man is one who can empathise, care and show allyship for those around them. Who can also process and articulate complex emotions in a healthy way, without creating fear. To me, that’s how I want to raise my boys. That’s what I believe it means to be a man.

Finally, I want to add that this is a thought piece, not an evidence-based research article. I am out of academic practice; I do not have the time to dedicate to a thorough investigation of the literature to interrogate this topic. This was written from my perceptions and observations, and there may be areas I’ve missed. There may be inaccuracies, but my aim is not to present exhaustive evidence, but to provoke curiosity into a fascinating topic.