Men Are Starving for Brotherhood.
“You can survive without brotherhood. But you’ll die inside.”
– A man I met once, halfway through his second divorce, halfway through a bottle of scotch.
You can tell a lot about a man by the way he stands in a group of other men.
Some are stiff - like they’re bracing for a punch.
Some puff up - like they’re about to throw one.
Some fade out - like they don’t believe they belong at all.
We’ve built a generation of men who know how to compete with each other, compare with each other, sleep with each other’s girlfriends, steal each other’s clients, and undercut each other’s dreams. But we’ve lost the ability to truly stand with one another.
And it’s killing us.
Not dramatically. Quietly. Like slow hunger.
Because men are starving for brotherhood. And no one’s teaching us how to feed each other.
The Masculine Wound of Isolation.
Modern masculinity is a solo sport.
We’re told to be strong. To stand alone. To hold it down. To figure it out. We’re handed a toolkit with one item: self-reliance - and then shamed for not being able to build a life with it.
From an early age, most of us learn that connection comes with a price. That other boys will shame us. That feelings are a weakness. That needing is needy. That closeness is risky. So we armour up. We make jokes. We become lone wolves. We call independence a virtue when really it’s a wound.
And yet, under all the armour, we’re aching for someone who gets it.
Not a mentor. Not a therapist.
A brother.
A man who sees us. Holds the line with us. Calls us on our bullshit and won’t walk away when we drop the act.
Why Brotherhood Scares Us.
Let’s not pretend this is easy.
Brotherhood requires us to be seen - not just admired. That’s threatening to a man who’s built his life on performance.
It asks us to drop the masks. To bring our real, messy, half-formed selves to the fire. To sit in the tension of being liked and being called out. Brotherhood is not comfort. It’s not therapy. It’s not a circle of men validating your pain without ever challenging your patterns.
Real brotherhood confronts.
Real brotherhood invites.
Real brotherhood holds.
And for many of us, that’s terrifying. Because we’ve never known men we could fully trust. We’ve never felt safe in the presence of other men unless we were dominating or hiding.
So we opt out. Or we stay on the edge. We keep it “friendly.” We call guys our “bro” but never let them see the shame, the fear, the secret stuff we think will cost us respect.
But here's the truth:
Respect doesn’t die in vulnerability. It’s born there.
You’re Not Meant to Do This Alone.
You can bench 120kg.
You can build a 7-figure business.
You can sleep with beautiful women.
You can meditate every morning and deadlift every night.
You can even be the most “healed” man in the room.
But if you don’t have brothers you can bleed with, your soul will wither.
Not all at once. But slowly. Quietly.
You’ll distract yourself. You’ll numb out. You’ll start to believe that no one really understands you.
And you’ll be half right - because you’ve never let them try.
We Need Fires, Not Filters.
We need spaces where men gather not to posture, but to burn off the bullshit.
We need fires. Real ones and metaphorical ones.
Places where:
You can speak your truth without needing to be profound.
You can hear a man’s heartbreak and feel your own open.
You can be witnessed in your ugliness, your brilliance, your edge.
You can be held accountable - not by force, but by loyalty.
You can remember what it means to be a man among men, not a brand among followers.
The Turning Point: It’s On You to Find the Others.
No one is coming to rescue you from isolation.
There’s no Hogwarts letter for men’s groups.
There’s no algorithm that delivers you a brotherhood.
You have to seek it. You have to build it. You have to fight for it the same way you fought for your business, your body, your bag. Because this is the next level of the game.
The irony? The men you most respect - they’re starving too. They’re just waiting for someone to break the silence.
Be that man.
The Real-World Task: Make the Call.
This week, reach out to two men you respect - but haven’t gone deep with.
Not with a pitch. Not with a fake excuse.
Just a straight-up, "Let’s catch up properly. No masks."
Then organise a third space. Not a pub. Not a networking event. Something neutral. Something sacred. A walk. A fire. A garage with chairs in a circle. Whatever.
Start a fire - literal or metaphorical.
Speak first. Be real. Don’t wait for permission.
You’ll be surprised how quickly men follow truth when someone’s brave enough to lead with it.
Reflective Exercise: Journal on Brotherhood.
Who are the men in my life I trust - but don’t fully know?
What do I fear would happen if I showed up as my real self with them?
What kind of brother do I need - and what kind of brother do I want to be?
What wound keeps me from trusting other men?
What would change in my life if I had a circle of men who truly had my back?
Write like your life depends on it. Because part of it does.
Reading List:
Fire in the Belly – Sam Keen
Tribe – Sebastian Junger
King, Warrior, Magician, Lover – Robert Moore & Douglas Gillette
No More Mr. Nice Guy – Dr. Robert Glover
Of Boys and Men – Richard V. Reeves
We were never meant to do this alone.
Not the building. Not the breaking. Not the healing.
Brotherhood is not a luxury. It’s a necessity.
And every day you spend without it, something in you starves.
Feed it.
We’re in this together.
