As Tim Walz accepted the vice presidential nomination at the DNC, his teenage son, Gus, inadvertently became internet famous after clips of him crying and exclaiming, “That’s my dad!” circulated. While many across the political spectrum found the display of emotion endearing, inevitable ugliness ensued.

Ann Coulter commented in a since-deleted post on X: “Talk about weird.” Podcaster Mike Crispi mocked “Walz’s stupid crying son” as a “puffy beta male.” Milwaukee talk show host Jay Weber called Gus a “blubbering bitch boy.”

Republican or Democrat, it takes a special form of callousness to mock a disabled teenager. This disappointing bullying is unsurprising, given our escalating national polemic. When we as a society legitimize gendered attacks and unnecessary, deliberate disrespect as political discourse, we make ourselves laughable and divert attention from substantive issues.

Gus’s new visibility opens an important discussion on our national conception of masculinity and how it contributes to the male loneliness epidemic.

Restrictive masculinity hurts everyone’s mental health.

Speaking from experience, men who regularly use the term “alpha” or derisively condemn peers as “beta” are among the most pathologically insecure men I know.

Core elements of this group’s conception of ideal masculinity include a muscular physique with impressive physical strength and attractiveness, economic power and social accolades, emotional stoicism, and sexual prowess with wide access to sexual opportunities.

Men who obsessively subscribe to this rigid construct may attempt to reach their goals of ideal masculinity in ways that are destructive to their health: for example, by using anabolic steroids or SARMs to increase muscle mass or by seeking excessive and financially draining cosmetic surgeries.

The pursuit of sexual opportunity to an extreme under this ideal is widely destructive. Nearly every woman I know has a story about a man who cannot handle rejection appropriately.

Dismissive statements in response to women’s complaints like “boys will be boys” or platforming men like Andrew Tate as “an important voice for men” normalize misogyny as ordinary male behavior despite the harm it causes. Inflexible adherence to this element of rigid masculinity, in which women are considered functional for men’s benefit, is a critical driver behind violence against women and its associated mental health consequences. Merely a second-year resident, I’ve lost count of the number of women I’ve triaged for suicidal ideation and mood disorders with shocking accounts of abuse by men who consider them inferior.

But this rigid construct of masculinity also harms men, encouraging focus on the superficial over meaningful introspection and developing deep emotional connections.

In the long term, these behaviors ruin relationships. I’ll offer one of my medical school cases as an example: a lawyer needing a liver transplant. He delivered a long, boastful soliloquy on his extensive experience with women and the “$4 billion deals I handle. Not the easy $350 million ones. I’m well-known in elite circles.” Whenever I asked about his support system, he deflected to his self-reported social and professional prestige.

I left, visibly annoyed. Then my attending said, “How you’re reacting to him is probably how everyone in his life feels about him.”

Indeed, that very ill patient had no meaningful support. Despite his “popularity,” no one cared enough even to ask about him.

The loneliness epidemic

If I had a relative like this man, I wouldn’t visit him either, and I’ve left partners like him. Many people respond similarly to these behaviors. It’s sad but predictable that these patients eventually find themselves totally alone.

And the abandonment, however understandable, has long-term health consequences — people with strong support systems have better health outcomes than those who don’t.

Loneliness in the U.S. is considered a public health crisis, with significant mental health consequences and an increased risk of premature death comparable to daily smoking. Surgeon General Vivek Murthy beautifully summarizes the importance of social connectedness: “Our relationships are a source of healing and well-being hiding in plain sight – one that can help us live healthier, more fulfilled, and more productive lives.”

Loneliness among men has garnered special attention in the media. The etiology of male loneliness in America is multifactorial. As I explained to my patient, there may be a personality component; selfishness and narcissism are associated more with male behavior, and those behaviors alienate people.

In large part, though, our construct of masculinity discourages men from emotional intimacy and vulnerability. Even decent men without extreme behaviors or narcissistic traits may aspire to this masculinity ideal and feel deeply ashamed and insecure if they fall short of societal expectations of what it means to be a man.

Gendering natural human emotion deters help-seeking behavior in men, especially when they are struggling mentally. Displaying emotion isn’t shameful, but suggesting that a teenage boy is a national embarrassment for displaying emotion is.

I’d like to see a world where men are encouraged to express their vulnerable, sensitive sides in a constructive way without derisive mockery ensuing.

The response to Gus Walz’s uncontrollable emotion is nothing surprising; it speaks to our underlying attitudes about male vulnerability: that it is unmanly and shameful. But emotion is a universal human experience regardless of gender. It has profound effects on our health; if the opposite were true, I wouldn’t have a job.

Until we can acknowledge this without unnecessarily gendering a universal human phenomenon, men will struggle disproportionately to form healthy friendships or meaningful relationships, exacerbating the problem of loneliness.

We shouldn’t be sacrificing anyone’s mental health for an inflexible construct that defies the normal humanity within all of us. Contrary to inflammatory rhetoric from men’s rights activists, masculinity is not under attack. However, the rigid construct of masculinity that fosters subjugation of and violence against women and actively harms men’s mental health by sabotaging help-seeking behavior and contributing to widespread loneliness is overdue for reform for everyone’s benefit.

Chloe N. L. Lee is a psychiatry resident.