Will it take a zombie apocalypse to fix masculinity? The thought occurred naturally while sitting in a dark theater taking in Danny Boyle’s intense, gory, and nudity-laden flick, 28 Years Later. While the film delivers all the visceral thrills and terror expected from a post-apocalyptic horror feature, it also serves up a surprisingly heartwarming and grounded journey for a young boy named Spike. Spike is a child who simply refuses to buy into his community’s stagnant, fearful view of the world. Everyone around him is trapped in a cycle of paranoia, incuriosity, and the ready acceptance of convenient, clear falsehoods about their harsh daily lives. Instead of following the herd, Spike actively seeks hope, even when doing so requires him to face the violent, cruel, and potentially fatal real world existing just off his isolated island.
While avoiding major plot spoilers, the way the story speaks to contemporary masculinity—wading through lost men, toxic lies, and not-so-symbolic alpha males embodied by one truly terrifying zombie—is both thoughtful and fresh. In the context of the broader cultural landscape currently navigating the confusing waters of boyhood and manhood, it stands out as the kind of deep narrative exploration that society could genuinely use right now.
This cultural introspection is not confined to the silver screen. Two months ago, Scott Galloway, a professor of marketing at NYU and a media tour de force affectionately known on his popular podcast as Prof G, took to the daytime talk show The View to talk about masculinity, as he so frequently does. Sitting before a panel and studio audience that seemed, somewhat surprisingly, to be in total agreement, Galloway laid out his vision for the modern man.
“I like the idea of restoring an aspirational vision of masculinity,” he told the room. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with leaning into your femininity or masculinity if it feels natural.”
In Galloway’s view, this restored and aspirational vision of masculinity involves three distinct, foundational pillars: being a provider, a procreator, and a protector.
When it comes to the first pillar, that of the provider, Galloway argues that every man at the outset of his career should take fundamental economic responsibility for his household. Sometimes, he notes, that means stepping back and getting out of the way of a more successful partner, while other times it means stepping up to bear the financial weight. For the second pillar, procreation, he suggests that men should channel “that fire of desire in the right ways,” transforming that primal energy into something that makes them a better man—someone kinder, stronger, and more mindful of how they present themselves, down to the basics of how they dress and, as he jokingly added on air, showering for God’s sake.
Finally, Galloway asserts that in an ideal, aspirational vision of masculinity, a man’s default operating system should be protection. This turns out to be a far more gentle and empathetic pillar than it might sound on its face to critics of traditional gender roles.
“A lot of women don’t feel safe on the subway,” Galloway explains, illustrating the concept, “or they see men walking down the street, they cross the sidewalk.”
In his view, this widespread sense of insecurity among women is a direct result of men eschewing their fundamental duty as protectors. Furthermore, he emphasizes that this protective duty is not just physical. When you see a group being demonized in society, your default setting as a man should be to move toward protection rather than joining in the marginalization.
In 28 Years Later, young Spike finds himself chasing this exact view of masculinity headlong. He acts as the provider by doggedly chasing the vital healthcare his mother needs—care that his own father ignores. He acts as the protector by shielding her from the relentless threat of zombies and shielding himself from the psychological indoctrination of his community. While he is not yet chasing procreation, given that he is only 12 years old, he actively rejects his father’s philandering and irresponsible example. The fact that he lives in a stark, post-apocalyptic landscape in many senses brings a razor-sharp clarity to his vision. When all worldly comforts are stripped away, genuine moral clarity arises.
Danny Boyle and Prof G ultimately share a rare common denominator: they are both speaking to the broadest possible audiences about complex, sensitive topics that so many men historically prefer to discuss exclusively with other men. With 28 Years Later raking in over $100 million at the box office already and The View maintaining its massive, mainstream daytime audience, it is refreshing to see such vital discussions spilling out of academic lecture halls and men’s group podcasts into the open public square.
Masculinity is making a cultural comeback, and it is finally time to talk about it openly.