Invisible No More

Understanding and Reconnecting with Young American Men to Strengthen Democracy

This morning, I am excited to announce that, along with colleagues Ilyse Hogue, Shauna Daly, and Colin Allred, we are launching the Speaking with American Men (SAM) Project. Our initiative aims to address and gain a deeper understanding of the serious issues facing young American men—a demographic whose struggles have often been misunderstood, overlooked, or even mocked in public discourse.

Mockery often stems from discomfort, misunderstanding, or a fear of confronting uncomfortable truths. It emerges when people are uncertain about how to handle nuance and complexity. The recent ridicule by some Democratic party operatives around this initiative only underscores our central point: society, and especially the Democratic Party, has frequently dismissed the genuine concerns of young men, reinforcing their sense of invisibility and alienation.

This project, which I discussed this morning on Morning Joe, is not about excusing certain behaviors or ignoring other societal challenges. It's about deeply understanding a segment of society feeling increasingly disconnected from institutions that should support and represent them. Engaging authentically with these young men (and also young women, older men, etc.) benefits everyone by building a stronger, more cohesive democracy. I have been drawn to this and similar work for many years because I know that democracy only functions when everyone feels heard and included.

Our conversations with young men across the country revealed unprecedented economic anxiety, deep confusion surrounding identity, and a profound belief that institutions have abandoned them. Ignoring their voices weakens our communities, our politics, and our collective future. Listening deeply and genuinely engaging these young men is essential—not merely politically, but morally—if we aim to build a democracy that truly represents everyone.

What surprised me most was the intensity and universality of the economic anxiety and emotional isolation expressed by these young men. Hearing from diverse groups of young men—from Black men in Detroit, Latino men in Las Vegas, to White men in Appalachia—that they feel utterly misunderstood and abandoned by nearly every institution, including the Democratic Party, highlighted just how widespread and deep-seated these issues are. The depth of their shared shame and disillusionment is far greater and more widespread than anticipated.

The complexity of the masculinity crisis these young men described—being simultaneously asked to be vulnerable yet mocked when showing vulnerability, expected to be providers but unable to achieve economic stability—was striking. Most alarming was how quickly and deeply extremist online content fills the void when these young men feel isolated or misunderstood, highlighting an underestimated and deeply systemic issue.

Social media emerged as a significant factor, actively conditioning young men’s identities and perceptions of masculinity, often without their conscious awareness. Our research showed that algorithms systematically deliver extremist or hyper-masculine content precisely at vulnerable moments—such as after a breakup or job loss—when they're most susceptible. This passive radicalization, hidden in everyday scrolling, demands urgent attention.

For me, this effort is not about partisanship—it's fundamentally about democracy. The alienation and invisibility young men feel present a crisis for everyone, regardless of political affiliation. Democrats undeniably need to regain their trust and votes, but more critically, we must rebuild their faith in political institutions.

Five of the many takeaways from our research:

1. Democrats Have a Serious Young-Men Problem: Young men increasingly view Democrats as weak, overly cautious, and disconnected from their struggles, contributing directly to significant electoral losses.

2. Young Men Feel Deeply Betrayed by Institutions: Across racial and economic lines, young men perceive politics, education, and the economy as rigged against them, fueling resentment and disengagement.

3. Economic Anxiety is Driving Disengagement: Young men face overwhelming economic pressures, making traditional milestones like homeownership or family stability feel impossible, intensifying their political alienation.

4. Conflicting Cultural Expectations Create a Masculinity Crisis: Young men describe being trapped by contradictory demands—urged to be vulnerable yet mocked when they show vulnerability, expected to provide yet unable to achieve economic stability.

5. Democrats Need to Speak Their Language and Show Up Authentically: Winning back young men requires genuine engagement in their digital spaces, straightforward messaging on economic realities, and authentic leadership—not scripted appeals or superficial gestures.

Below is the full report, which includes additional findings shared through the voices I’ve met along the way. I hope you take some time with it. I hope you discuss it, debate it, and share it widely. I hope you support SAM.

Photo by Caspar Rae on Unsplash

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The Backdrop

This pivotal moment of what it means to be a man today – which some view as a crisis – is not unprecedented in American history. Previous generations faced similar challenges during the Industrial Revolution, Great Depression, and post-World War II transitions. What distinguishes today's moment is the convergence of multiple simultaneous disruptions – economic anxiety, cultural transformation, technological displacement, and social isolation – occurring at unprecedented speed without institutional support systems.

The COVID-19 pandemic accelerated these trends, forcing young men into digital isolation during critical years of identity formation. To understand how this generation is navigating these challenges and how it shapes their politics, we conducted 30 in-depth focus groups across diverse geographic regions, encompassing diverse racial, economic, and educational backgrounds. We discovered a generation united by shared pain but divided by how that pain is expressed.

Today’s young men are not weak or entitled – they're responding rationally to structural changes that have made basic milestones like homeownership economically inaccessible while cultural expectations have shifted faster than economic realities. Their grandfathers could support families on single incomes without college degrees. Today's young men face an economy demanding more credentials for less stability, housing costs often consuming 40-50% of income, even for college graduates. And for those without college degrees, the picture is even grimmer: many tell us they cannot afford a doctor when sick, have no ability to cover unexpected emergencies, and increasingly face homelessness, or near homelessness. At the same time, they grapple with cultural messages simultaneously demanding emotional vulnerability and traditional breadwinning while providing neither the economic foundation nor social permission to fulfill either role successfully.

This helps explain the 2024 election results, where young men increasingly chose Donald Trump – not because they embraced his rhetoric, but because he promised to tear down a system they believe has betrayed them. When every major institution feels rigged against their success, disruption becomes more appealing than preservation. They're choosing someone who promises to dismantle what they see as a rigged game.

This is not a story about ideology or partisanship. It's a story about institutions that failed them, hidden shame, and the human cost of a political system that treats young men's struggles as secondary concerns.

The central finding is this: Young men still believe in democracy – but not in today’s version of it. They haven't abandoned civic engagement; they've been abandoned by civic institutions.

This dynamic extends beyond any single candidate or election cycle. When the “normal” political process produces leaders who sound scripted and offer solutions that don't address their lived reality, candidates who promise systemic change earn credibility – even when those promises come with significant democratic risks.

This represents both an urgent political challenge and one of the greatest opportunities of our time. The party, or movement, that learns to speak authentically to the reality of young men, acknowledges their pain without judgment, and offers them a meaningful role in building solutions will earn not just their votes, but potentially their sustained support. Conversely, continued neglect will cause further political fragmentation and greater willingness to embrace anti-establishment approaches that may undermine democratic norms.

My Takeaways ✨✨✨

#1: Institutions Have Failed Them – And They Know It

The most universal finding across all 30 focus groups was institutional betrayal. Young men across every region and racial group feel deeply let down by politics, education, law enforcement, and labor systems. This does not signal naivety but informed disillusionment based on lived experience.

“Neither party has our back,” said a politically engaged Black man in Atlanta, capturing a sentiment echoed from Detroit to Phoenix to Las Vegas. A White man from Appalachia described politicians as wearing "really bad clothes when they come into the bar. But underneath, they have, like, a five-piece suit that's well tailored... publicly, they'll say, 'Hey, let's help out this group and this group.' But then, privately, they have all this money, and they truly don't wanna help society."

What young men crave isn't just representation – it's protection. They've learned to expect neglect, not support. When every system seems designed to extract more than it gives, self-reliance stops feeling like strength and starts feeling like the only option left. "I don't think the government necessarily cares about any of us at all," said a young Detroit father bluntly.

#2: Shame Is the Silent Force Shaping Young Men's Lives

Perhaps the most powerful yet hidden finding was the pervasive nature of shame among young men. Across every background, they carry shame about emotions, income, identity, and their role in society. It's rarely offered directly and without probing, but it's everywhere – and it drives silence, withdrawal, and political retreat.

They feel ashamed to ask for help. Ashamed not to provide enough. Ashamed to cry, to fail, or to fall short of expectations – whether old or new. Even White men describe shame tied to their identity, especially in progressive spaces: "I'm ashamed because I'm a White man, because there are some old White guys... It feels like, you know, sometimes I feel like I shouldn't have a say in things."

This shame shapes what men share, how they see themselves, and what they're willing to believe in – politically and personally. It's the invisible hand pushing them away from institutions that make them feel smaller rather than stronger. A Hispanic man described the vulnerability trap: "Some women will be like: 'I want a man that's vulnerable.' But the second a guy starts talking about well, you know, 'This happened when I was a kid,' or, you know, 'I'm just not having a good day.' It's like, you're a guy. You're not supposed to be like this."

#3: Masculinity Is a Burden, Not a Blueprint

Seemingly every man we spoke with is trying to navigate a culture that tells them to be emotionally open – but mocks them when they try. Some want new definitions of masculinity. Others double down on old ones. All feel caught in what they feel is an impossible bind.

"You have to be a monster, but…it’s about controlling that monster," said a White tech worker. "If you show weakness, it's over," said a Black father. Masculinity has become a performance with contradictory scripts, and the silence around this confusion is hurting them.

A Las Vegas service worker captured the provider paradox: "I feel like nowadays, being a traditional man like, you get considered old school. Like, having your wife at home... To me, I feel like I'm providing, I'm taking care of [her] and my daughter. But to other people, it could seem like I'm holding her back."

The result is a no-win situation around the meaning of “a man” – young men feel they can't win regardless of which path they choose. Traditional masculinity is criticized as outdated; non-traditional masculinity is questioned as weak.

#4: What They Carry Looks Different – But Feels the Same

This may be the most politically significant finding: while the specific expressions vary by race and background, the core emotional experience is remarkably consistent. In Atlanta, White men voiced resentment about DEI and lost opportunity. In Detroit, Black men talked about impossible expectations from partners and employers. In Las Vegas, Hispanic men described doubling down on traditional masculinity in response to cultural pressure.

But underneath these different narratives lies the same fundamental pain: not belonging, not being heard, and not making it despite putting in the work. Each group describes the same weight – economic pressure, emotional isolation, and identity strain – shaped by different lived experiences but creating identical feelings of being unseen and tired of pretending otherwise.

A Detroit Black skilled trades worker described impossible expectations: "They want a thug that graduated from college, that goes to church every Sunday, that can handle himself in the streets, that owns a business, that still sells drugs, that gives her all the money. It's too much."

A White small business owner echoed similar pressure from a different angle: "My wife's a stay-at-home mom, and we just don't tell people because it's always an issue... This is just what she wants to do, and I wanna give her that opportunity. I don't know why people get upset about it."

The words change, the context shifts, but the core feeling remains: they're carrying burdens that feel impossible to bear and impossible to discuss.

#5: Mental Health Is a Crisis Hiding in Plain Sight

Behind every other struggle lies a mental health crisis that young men are largely navigating alone. The pressure to appear strong, combined with limited emotional outlets and pervasive shame, creates what one participant called being "on islands" – isolated men struggling with identical problems but unable to help each other.

"I feel like I'm on an island sometimes when it comes to providing," said a White suburban father from Metro Atlanta. "And I have buddies who feel the same way, but they're on islands themselves. I can't help them with those problems. They can't help me with mine, and we have to deal with it individually as men."

A Black community college student described the racial dimension: "As Black men, we're supposed to be strong. We're supposed to be super strong and hold everything together, but it's draining. Like, it's honestly draining... you're putting other people before you're putting yourself."

The coping mechanisms they describe – drinking, smoking, emotional withdrawal – aren't solutions but symptoms of a support system that has failed them. "They go home, and then they just spark up their marijuana. They're gonna get a bottle of Henny, and that's how we've been trained to mentally take in everything. Just to drink it or smoke it away," said a politically engaged Black man in Atlanta.

#6: Economic Insecurity Cuts Across Income and Identity

From hospitality workers to engineers, men are overwhelmed by economic realities that make traditional milestones feel impossible. Critically, this isn't just about low wages – it's about the distance between expectations and reality at every income level.

"Even with a six-figure salary, I feel poor," said an Asian American professional. "I work three jobs – and I'm still behind," said a White father. The American Dream isn't dead for this generation – it's been moved out of reach while they were told it was getting easier to achieve.

A Black urban professional captured the generational shift: "My grandfather was working for the trash company for the city and got a house for his five kids, and was good. I can't buy a house right now. I mean, I could, but it would take a lot, a lot more than what it did for my grandfather."

The pressure to provide hasn't disappeared, but the tools to meet that expectation feel broken. A Hispanic hospitality worker described the timeline compression: "I think when dad had me, he was married and had a house by the time he was 21, 22. And here I am, 29, living in a buddy's spare room."

For many, the economic struggle has become existential: "Kinda doomed to, like, hustle, especially Black men... It's a never-ending struggle. It's a never-ending hustle... We all just live off of survival, and it's like, it makes me feel like I wanna say, like, it's depressing."

#7: Social Media Isn't Just Content – It's Conditioning

Whether or not they seek it, algorithmic content finds young men during their most vulnerable moments. "Against my will, I see so many Andrew Tate videos," said a White educator, describing how hyper-masculine and extremist content reaches them without their conscious choice.

The timing matters. Algorithms push problematic content precisely when young men are dealing with breakups, job loss, or emotional struggles. "I recently got out of a really long-term relationship last year," one participant explained. "And after that, my social media feed, it seemed like it instantly realized that I was single, and I was barraged with workout content, pseudo-philosophical content, religious content, all aimed at, like, you wanna be a better man."

This represents passive radicalization – young men aren't seeking extremist content, but extremist content is finding them when they're most susceptible. As one participant noted, "It's the wild, wild west... You can start a brand new account on a computer that's never been used. And if you happen to click on a video that is political in any way, the YouTube algorithm... will, somewhat quickly, get you in from, let's say, Fox News to Ben Shapiro to someone more extreme than that to even Nick Fuentes.” The platforms are shaping identity in the background, reinforcing ideas about manhood, power, and worth before young men have had a chance to define these concepts for themselves.

#8: The Authenticity Gap and How Political Image Shapes Trust

To many young men, the differences between parties aren't ideological – they're emotional and aesthetic. Republicans are seen as confident, direct, and unafraid to offend. Charlie Kirk, for example, is lauded for showing up to what is perceived as hostile environments and unafraid to take questions from anyone. Democrats, in contrast, come off as elite, scripted, cautious, and uncertain of themselves. Even when young men align with Democratic policies, they often don't trust that they can or even know how to deliver.

"Democrats tend to embrace more of, like, the fluid masculinity of being, like, empathetic and sensitive," said a young Asian American professional. "Republicans are more like, the traditional masculinity of a provider, strong, and the machismo type."

For many young men fighting to survive, the party that seems willing to take hits and keep standing earns more credibility – regardless of policy platform. "They both play the same game," said a Detroit father. "One (Republicans) just does it a little better than the other.”

This perception creates a fundamental challenge: young men want leadership that signals strength, clarity, and follow-through, especially in an unstable world. The party that appears tentative or overly managed loses credibility before policy discussions even begin.

#9: Start With What's Real – But Don't Stop There

What matters most immediately to young men are the pressures they feel right now: the cost of rent, the challenge of affording healthcare, the weight of mental health struggles they're expected to manage alone. But there's also a deeper anxiety about technological change and future relevance that political leaders largely ignore.

They're not asking for canned messaging about innovation or disruption. They want to know: Will I still matter in a world increasingly built around machines? Will I be replaced, ignored, or locked out of economic opportunity? Will the skills and values I'm developing today have any relevance tomorrow?

"A lot of jobs that used to exist just don't anymore," said a White urban professional. "Manufacturing has been declining for a while, but all sorts of customer service and white collar jobs are being outsourced, or there is a big push to just replace everything with AI."

As one Las Vegas gig worker noted about political appeal: "I think young men, especially me, we like a warrior, someone who deals with a lot of problems and still gets through it." They want leaders who understand both current struggles and future challenges – who can speak to what's broken now while showing they grasp what's coming next.

#10: Ten Voices: Understanding Young Men's Experiences

While young men share remarkably similar struggles – economic insecurity, emotional isolation, institutional distrust – they're not a monolith. They speak in many voices. Each voice reflects the men we met along our journey, their real experiences shaped by unique circumstances and pressures.

Our research highlights ten distinct voices among Gen Z men. They are fluid, not fixed – and each one represents an opportunity to engage genuinely, whether it's “the Provider” struggling to support his family, “the Scroller” quietly pulled toward radicalization by algorithms, or “the Outsider,” deeply alienated and frustrated. These voices aren't lost – they're waiting for someone to hear them clearly and respond genuinely.

Core Voices (Widely expressed, and central to engagement)

• The Provider

  • Often White, Hispanic or Latino, non-college, family-focused.

  • "It's on me... we just can't do it right now."

  • Feels abandoned and moving toward populism.

  • Honor his role, center economic security, use respect-based language.

• The Skeptic

  • Black, Hispanic or Latino, civic-minded, distrusts systems.

  • "Neither party has our back."

  • Believes in fairness but may tune out if leadership feels performative.

  • Show up consistently, act authentically, invest in community over optics.

• The Stoic

  • Across races, emotionally repressed, duty-driven.

  • "Correct your posture... keep walking."

  • Suppresses struggle, avoids vulnerability frames.

  • Reframe strength as endurance, use peer-modeled support.

• The Worker

  • All races, college-educated, economically anxious.

  • "Even with a six-figure salary, I feel poor."

  • Feels scammed by the system, drifting toward resentment.

  • Call out the betrayal, offer real economic wins, reject vague optimism.

• The Anchor

  • Across races, often spiritual, quietly resilient.

  • "I still try to be there for people. That's how I know I'm doing something right."

  • May feel invisible because he isn't loud or angry.

  • Uplift his voice as a model of grounded strength and quiet leadership.

Emerging Voices (Important, nuanced experiences requiring tailored engagement)

• The Protector

  • White, Hispanic, Latino, or Asian American; values family, faith, structure.

  • "Being a traditional man...feels backwards now."

  • Feels judged by cultural messaging, may lean “right” defensively.

  • Respect tradition; frame policies as tools to protect loved ones.

• The Scroller

  • Digitally isolated, algorithmically shaped.

  • "Against my will, I see so many Andrew Tate videos."

  • Consuming extremist content passively, may not realize the drift.

  • Use credible peers to disrupt feeds; replace rather than scold.

• The Silenced

  • Primarily White, highly educated or elite.

  • "I'm ashamed because I'm a White man..."

  • Quiet resentment festering in progressive spaces.

  • Offer belonging without blame; ground in shared pain, not guilt.

• The Builder

  • Often Black, Hispanic, Latino, or Asian American; entrepreneurial, independent.

  • “I don't trust the system—that's why I'm building my own thing.”

  • May fully detach if unrecognized.

  • Support his leadership, elevate his story, connect him to others like him.

• The Outsider

  • Across races, angry, alienated, blunt.

  • "At least they're saying something real—even if it's offensive."

  • Not hateful, just unheard—but ready to embrace extremism.

  • Speak plainly, validate pain, stop trying to impress, listen first.

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The Bottom Line

The voices in this report represent real men navigating structural challenges with remarkable resilience. They haven't abandoned hope in America's promise, but their faith in American institutions hangs by a thread. This generation still wants to be part of the solution – they're waiting for leaders who will treat them as partners rather than problems. The opportunity for genuine engagement remains, but the window is narrowing. The choice facing American leadership is clear: listen now, or lose them to movements that will.

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