The Emasculation of Fatherhood: The Core Reason Behind the Loss of Dignified Motherhood

May 11

In this article, we explore the scientifically well-established link between moral absolutes, core value hierarchies, and the emasculation of fatherhood, examining how this dynamic impacts family structures and future mothers. Our analysis is grounded in psychologically proven facts and the social experiment of redefining masculinity that has unfolded over the past half-century.

This exploration is not just a critique but a nuanced look at how the erosion of masculine identity within the family unit has far-reaching consequences, particularly on the role and dignity of motherhood. We will investigate how the gradual decline of disciplined, value-driven masculinity affects familial cohesion and the intergenerational transmission of values, ultimately shaping the next generation of both men and women.

Main Role of the Father in the Family Structure

There’s no denying that kindness, humility, intelligence, and sincerity are essential qualities for any father. From a psychometric perspective, it’s also crucial for fathers—like all individuals in society—to possess a healthy degree of empathy and politeness. These traits are undeniably valuable. However, in the final analysis, they are supplementary qualities that enhance fatherhood rather than define its core purpose.

So, what exactly is the primary role of a father within the family structure? Setting aside postmodern narratives that suggest anyone can be anything (a notion that lacks empirical support), we arrive at a more structured understanding: At the highest level of analysis, the father represents culture, law, and rule-setting within the family.

While the mother often embodies love, care, and a nuanced awareness of unmet needs—serving as the wellspring of creativity and nurturing—the father’s role is fundamentally different. He is the one who points the way, setting clear, consistent boundaries as the children grow.

From a psychological standpoint, the primary function of the father is to establish and enforce rules and boundaries, ensuring that these structures are upheld. This guidance is not merely about authority but about creating a stable framework that minimizes unnecessary suffering and promotes healthy development. In this sense, the father’s responsibility transcends mere affection or support—it involves crafting a disciplined environment where children learn accountability and responsibility.

Thus, one should appreciate such men. Many of the ideas and examples in this article stem from a fruitful conversation with a recovering feminist, who made a quantum leap in her personal life by choosing a wiser and more meaningful way to face challenges. She replaced her job as a dog shelter PR manager with the roles of wife and mother. Imperfect as her husband may be — as all men are — he stands in stark contrast to the model of emasculated masculinity. He embodies healthy aggression, a quality that becomes evident within 5 to 10 seconds of encountering him, as his demeanor reflects a clear internalization of his own shadow through sufficient encounters with the Real.

Such men may not be ideal in terms of romantic gestures, long-winded conversations about feelings, or deep discussions about the spiritual significance of sunsets. However, they are the polar opposites of the bubbly, elderly, inmasculine fathers who live in their own universe of carefree, fake happiness. The crucial difference is that the former—like the husband of the recovering feminist—will have a family to lead and children to guide with clear boundaries, while the bubbly, sugar daddy type of emasculated character will ultimately find himself in strange solitude.

The reason is simple: when a father fails to set boundaries and fakes masculinity without the ability to secure the orderly family structure, it is categorically worse than being less romantic or skeptically inclined toward Eckhart Tolle. As a result, weak men will often find that their wives leave taking the children, because living without boundaries and embodying fake masculinity is far more damaging than a lack of poetic gestures or healthy skepticism toward spiritual clichés.

Masculinity is Responsibility

How can a father truly fulfill his role? The answer lies in masculinity—but not the caricatured version often associated with dominance or the abuse of power. Genuine masculinity is not about imposing strength or control over others; that kind of tyranny belongs to a bygone era. In modern, civil societies, masculinity has transformed into something far more profound and essential: responsibility.

But responsibility for what, exactly? Primarily, it’s not just about taking charge of the children’s behavior. At its core, masculinity means first and foremost taking responsibility for one’s own actions and conduct. Why? Because a father has no credible position to teach behavioral or psychological responsibility to his children if he himself fails to embody the very principles he tries to instill.

In this sense, a father is, and always should be, the living embodiment of the rules he sets. It’s not enough to articulate those rules verbally; that’s relatively easy. What’s far more challenging—and crucial—is living by those rules in a consistent, visible, and meaningful way. The father must model the values and boundaries he expects his children to adopt, not just in isolated moments but as a continuous, integrated aspect of his daily life.

If a father fails in this, the consequences are severe. Children will see through any inconsistency between word and action, quickly losing respect and trust. Worse still, they may internalize the idea that rules are flexible or non-existent, leading to confusion and a lack of moral clarity.

In essence, masculinity as responsibility is about embodying a principled life—a life where the rules are not just spoken but lived. Without this alignment between action and principle, the very foundation of fatherhood collapses.

The Triad of Healthy Masculinity: Personality, Behavior, and Moral Absolutes

When examining a father figure within the family construct, it’s essential to analyze how he can genuinely exercise healthy masculinity. To break this down with precision, we can conceptualize masculinity through three core vectors: personality traits (largely biological), behavioral example, and value structure with moral absolutes. Together, these elements form the triad of healthy masculinity. Let’s take a closer look at each.

Personality Trait Disposition: The Foundation of Healthy Masculinity

What personality traits best position a father to exercise healthy masculinity? This is not merely speculative but a well-established fact within personality psychology and psychometric analysis. Research consistently highlights three crucial traits: low agreeableness, high assertiveness, and low neuroticism—both in terms of withdrawal and volatility.

Masculine and Feminine Trait Contrasts

When we consider femininity in general, the traits that typically define a good mother are almost the opposite. Women, on average, exhibit higher agreeableness, particularly in the form of empathy, which serves well in nurturing roles. Assertiveness, while useful, is less essential for maternal effectiveness. Neuroticism, statistically higher in women than in men, does not inherently hinder maternal quality. In contrast, for fathers, these traits can significantly impact their ability to embody healthy masculinity.

The Risk of "Pussification" and Its Consequences

One major pitfall in modern fatherhood is the phenomenon commonly dubbed “pussification”—a loss of masculine presence that fundamentally compromises the father’s role. The triad of traits leading to this emasculation includes high agreeableness, low assertiveness, and high neuroticism. This combination leads to a weak father figure, scientifically proven to face significant challenges in embodying healthy masculinity.

Specifically, high biological politeness (a component of agreeableness), very high empathy, low extraversion (especially in assertiveness), and high neuroticism (which often manifests as anxiety and withdrawal rather than decisive action) set the stage for failure in the fatherly role.

Why This Matters: The "Chair" Syndrome

When a father has such a personality profile, he risks becoming metaphorically a “chair”—an object easily moved around, passive and pliable. In crucial moments requiring masculinity—asserting boundaries, defending principles, or making tough decisions—these men are more likely to retreat, engage in willful blindness, or adopt a mindset of passive acceptance rather than confront the issue head-on.

This tendency is not just a personal failing but a biologically predisposed risk, making it exceptionally difficult for such fathers to step into their roles as protectors and rule-setters. This isn’t about assigning blame but rather acknowledging a scientifically validated personality trait analysis. Without a conscious effort to counter these tendencies, such fathers may end up modeling passivity rather than strength, inadvertently teaching their children that rules are fluid and boundaries are negotiable.

”Give me your iphone!”

In most cases, they struggle even with the most basic and mundane aspects of rule-setting—like restricting smartphone use. For example, at the beginning of the week, the father, visibly irritated and with a shaky voice, tells his ten-year-old daughter, “No iPhone for you until the end of the week!” The girl hands over the phone. However, if by Wednesday she’s playing with the phone again, there is not even the faintest expectation that she will return home at the agreed time—or, on a larger scale, feel any obligation to be honest with her father. Why? Because what may seem like kindness is, in reality, a demonstration of the father being “a Chair”—something to be moved around at will.

In contrast, when the same girl spends time with her stepfather—who takes the phone not for an exaggerated period, but for exactly as long as he said he would—she protests, cries, and gets mad, but ultimately respects the man. There is something inherently raw and sincere in that display of masculinity, and—though daughters rarely admit it or can even verbalize it—this genuine internal strength and willingness to set firm boundaries is precisely what they craved from the passive father but never received. Each instance of failed rule enforcement only reconfirms to the daughter that her mother’s decision to leave the “pussified chair” for a decent man was not a whim, but an inevitable consequence of that father’s weakness.

How “Chairs” Are Moved Around

When it comes to men with a personality disposition characterized by high agreeableness—due to a combination of biological politeness, high compassion, empathy, lower assertiveness, and high neuroticism—they often manage these traits through mindfulness practices and similar methods. However, these qualities can make them particularly vulnerable to manipulation, especially by women. It would be naive to think that women do not take advantage of such men; in fact, it happens far more often than many realize.

When a woman sets such a man to “go to war” against others—be it institutions or individuals—by weaponizing him with false information, especially when delivered with enough compassion that resonates with his internal feminine side, the results can be devastating. Although the true villain may be the woman who distorts the facts and feeds false stories to the man, it is often the man who becomes psychologically “activated”. In these situations, such men feel an overwhelming desire to take action.

However, this is where their personality traits come into play. Instead of directly confronting the opposing party—facing the situation head-on with calmness and readiness for escalation—they lack the internal aggression necessary to do so. Despite their genuine desire to help and “stand up for the woman”, they resort to more feminine methods—most commonly, sending messages or emails (even a phone call would feel too confrontational). From a safe distance, all they have are written words and the “facts” provided by those who exploit their high agreeableness.

The result is a series of long-winded, critical messages where the man attempts to deconstruct the situation, reveal absolute truths, and display his sharpness. In a written format without feedback, narratives begin to build on each other, often fueled by inherited high neuroticism. The end product might feel to the sender like a powerful, reasoned attack, and so, with a sense of righteous resolve, he presses “Send.”

The Sad Reality

In reality, these “stepping up for others” attacks often have an effect that might surprise even the sender. If you strip away the sender data and focus solely on the content, most people—with sincere curiosity—would guess that the author’s age hovers around the early teens. Why? Because the initial “facts” fed to the man were often absurdly false. Lacking the necessary internal masculine rationality to organize and filter the emotional “chaos” while writing, the result is often a message filled with hyperboles and a “creative” approach to truth.

As a result, 90% of people who read such messages without any prior context unanimously conclude: “This man is not mentally well.” And when these messages end up in the hands of mental health professionals, the verdict from psychiatrists is often just as sobering. The sad outcome of such “epistolary masterwork” is rarely writing oneself into the admiration of others as a “man who stood up for the truth”—more often, it’s writing oneself into a mental health evaluation.

There’s nothing to laugh at here, because if such men have children, these messages often become “evidence used against them in a court of law”, leading to a loss of custodial rights—not because of their intentions, but because they allowed themselves to be manipulated. The intentions of the deceptive initiator were often malicious and fueled by a desire for revenge, while the intentions of the “chair” were good but limited by personality traits. The outcome, however, is far from a solution. In the end, the true victim of this dynamic is the “chair” who let himself be moved around. Moreover, the statements made under his name are often indefensible and categorically weaken his own reputation and position in every confrontation.

Often, even third parties—unaware of the manipulative “mover” behind the scenes—end up viewing the “chair” as mentally unstable or unpredictably volatile. In the end, it’s a tragic situation, where the man’s good intentions are overshadowed by his inability to recognize manipulation, leading to isolation and judgment from those who might otherwise be supportive.

How an Anti-Chair Approaches the Situation

When I think about the opposite of such men—those who have integrated their dark side and embody a masculine way of acting—several examples come to mind from different fields. These men share a unifying trait: they possess the power to be aggressive face-to-face when needed—and ironically, that very ability means it is practically never needed.

When someone attempts to manipulate or move them around, they first approach the situation with healthy criticism, wanting to ascertain the facts by confronting anyone who asks them to take action. They are not afraid to show healthy skepticism toward any feminine emotional input, recognizing it as just one version of the situation.

Once they decide to address the problem, they meet opposition directly—face-to-face—fully aware that they must be accountable for every word they utter. They exhibit stoic calmness and, when challenged, they understand that they can never resort to the “Adam syndrome” as described in Genesis 3:12. In this biblical passage, Adam shifts the blame to both Eve and indirectly to God. The essence of Adam’s statement—"The woman you put here with me—she gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it"—is an act of self-exoneration: instead of taking personal responsibility, Adam blames both Eve and God. That, by the way, might well have been the true sin that got the couple kicked out of the garden.

These anti-chair men never resort to such blame-shifting because they know it would cost them all respect and future positions. They understand that once a word has left their mouth, it is out there, and there are no excuses for “not knowing the facts better.” They recognize that when they speak, they speak for themselves or for their family, and if they say something matters, they take full responsibility. Their focus is always on finding a solution.

If necessary, they will escalate the conflict face-to-face. If needed, they might even raise their voice. They are prepared to stand their ground in every way. The result is a movement toward resolution with exceptional effectiveness. They remain calm in conflict and, perhaps, even enjoy the fact that they can hold eye contact longer than the other while fighting with the truth. Such men demand respect because they do not hide, lie, exaggerate, or allow themselves to be manipulated or moved around. In this sense, masculine men are anti-chairs.

The Story Behind Every Masculine Anti-Chair

There is always a story behind every masculine man as an anti-chair. While the details differ, the nature of these stories is remarkably similar. They are stories of encountering the darkness within, realizing that they too are capable of extreme violence if pushed to the limit. These experiences often involve life-or-death situations, moments where every word matters, and where the fate of many can change forever.

Such dark periods and episodes are essential for becoming an anti-chair because they force a man to confront his own capacity for aggression, understand it, and ultimately tame it. Once a man has faced his own darkness, his kindness becomes genuine and precious—not superficial, forced, or purely feminine, but authentic.

This is why every glimpse of genuine emotion from such men should be appreciated—because it comes from a place of truth and earned self-control, something more than just femininity—a self-control of raw manhood. It is much like the kindness of Father Zosima from The Brothers Karamazov: profound, because it arises from sufficient encounters with the Real. Everything changes once a man has truly faced his own darkness and learned to integrate it without letting it dominate.

Behavioral Example: The Unspoken Law of Fatherhood

When it comes to setting rules within a family, simply articulating them is, in most cases, not enough—especially when it comes to fathers. From a developmental psychology perspective, it’s well established that verbal instruction has minimal long-term impact. While young children might respond to spoken guidelines, this influence dwindles significantly as they grow older and begin to conceptualize the world for themselves.

Actions Speak Louder Than Words

Children naturally monitor their father’s actions and draw conclusions about the “true rules”—both consciously and unconsciously—based on observed behavior rather than verbal declarations. This is precisely why fatherhood is inherently demanding: there is no shortcut or easy way out.

The Trap of Self-Justification

Fathers who sense that they may not live up to their responsibilities often fall into a self-justifying trap. They may adopt the mindset that “children will make their own choices regardless” and that parenting is ultimately about giving space rather than guidance. This line of reasoning serves as a weak excuse to escape the most critical function of fatherhood: setting and maintaining boundaries.

This outlook is not just problematic; it’s demonstrably false from a scientific standpoint. If the father abdicates his role as rule-maker and boundary setter, he essentially leaves the upbringing of his children to external influences—society, peers, media, and other inconsistent or unreliable sources of values. It’s hardly necessary to elaborate on how poorly that has played out over the past half-century.

A prime example of this failure is the categorical chasm between the father’s actions and words. Responsibility is treated as something clearly measurable, divisible, and mathematical. The result of around half a century of such emasculation has led to a category of men who claim to have moral absolutes but fail to act according to them. They profess to always tell the truth but often do not. They pledge to keep promises and commitments but fail to follow through.

The core problem is that they never clearly define the moment of personal transformation and true confession. Instead, they often resort to long-winded, demagogic explanations, justifying why they were not responsible for their actions. It is telling that those who have encountered the Real in their lives look at this with amazement. Men who have lived according to moral absolutes simply read such explanations with sincere disbelief and say: “No wonder the wife left that guy, and removing the children from such volatility is not an act of aggression but the most genuine way to protect them.”

Trying to “explain away” clear moral failures is one of the few ways in which a situation, already dire and a father’s reputation in ruins, can be cemented in history as yet another occasion of self-justification—a lasting example for others as a cautionary tale. At its core, this behavior amounts to abandoning fatherhood—stepping back and leaving the children morally unattended. It effectively hands them over to a society that offers a fragile, inconsistent, and unreliable path to moral absolutes. The only way to prevent this is if the other parent possesses enough love and strength to provide a stable and strong father figure, ensuring that the children grow up with clear moral guidance and consistent values.

The Hypocrisy Dilemma: Walking the Talk

Consider the scenario where a father tells his son, “Never cheat,” but is simultaneously having affairs with multiple women. From the age of five or six, children become adept at recognizing behavioral contradictions. The son will not only dismiss the anti-cheating advice but also internalize a more damaging lesson: that cheating is permissible and that women, as a result, do not deserve respect.

Worse still, this double standard undermines the father’s credibility altogether. The child learns that the father’s words cannot be trusted, leading to the dangerous conclusion that rules are not real—they are just verbal placeholders, easily ignored when inconvenient.

This is why setting an example is not merely an optional part of fatherhood—it is the essence. The father’s actions form the unspoken law by which his children learn to navigate the world. A father who preaches honesty but lives dishonestly doesn’t just fail in a moral sense—he fails to establish a coherent value system. The resulting confusion leaves a vacuum where principles should be, making it impossible for children to develop a sense of integrity and consistency.

Moral Absolutes: The Bedrock of Parenting

One of the most overlooked aspects of parenting is the consistent application of moral absolutes. Why is it so easily neglected? The answer is rather unflattering: it’s incredibly difficult to put into practice. Unlike flexible values that can adapt to circumstances, moral absolutes demand unwavering consistency. They don’t exist in a vacuum—they arise from fundamental principles about life, and require a thorough, holistic, and precise conceptualization of reality, perception, consciousness, free will, and causality. In simpler terms, moral absolutes need a well-established, clearly articulated normative framework to stand on.

The Comfortable Cop-Out: “It Depends”

Faced with this complexity, many parents default to a position of moral relativism: “It depends.” This attitude is not just a philosophical stance—it’s often a convenient excuse. It reflects an uncomfortable reality: the parent may not be entirely convinced that moral absolutes exist, or worse, they may not feel confident enough to model them consistently in their own lives. In essence, it’s an attempt to evade the most challenging and vital aspect of parenting: defining and upholding a moral structure.

By abandoning this responsibility, parents effectively outsource moral education to society. But this is a grievous error—an abdication of duty—and it never ends well. Experiments in societal moral relativism have consistently failed. Social norms fluctuate, and what was once considered acceptable might soon be deemed reprehensible. Entrusting society with your child’s moral foundation is akin to building on shifting sand.

The Hard Road: Living Moral Absolutes

What, then, is the alternative? It’s the hard path—the one where you represent moral absolutes not just through words but through consistent actions. It also involves the ability to explain the structure upon which these absolutes rest, both logically and morally.

Consider the scenario where a child asks, “Can I lie?” It may appear to be just a simple question, easily dismissed or brushed off with a “it depends” response. But in reality, this moment represents a crucial fork in the road. At this juncture, the parent must first and foremost decide whether moral absolutes exist at all. If the answer is yes, the next step is to demonstrate that commitment through their own behavior—in detail and without exceptions.

The tragic mistake many parents make in such situations is to offer a half-hearted answer:
“Generally no, you can never lie, but...”
This response immediately devolves into the infamous “it depends” territory, blending moral guidelines with pragmatic exceptions. Before long, the child learns that lying is permissible “under certain circumstances”, and this rationalization soon mutates into the "game of life" mentality—where moral integrity becomes fluid, negotiable, and ultimately disposable.

Years down the line, when those same children face accusations or ethical dilemmas, they instinctively fall back on exceptions, relativism, and justifications. Why? Because that’s the moral framework they grew up with: truth is important—except when it’s inconvenient.

To avoid this, a father (or any parent) must model truth-telling with unwavering consistency. If honesty is an absolute, it must be absolute in all situations, even when inconvenient, painful, or costly. This is not just about telling the truth—it’s about embodying it, living it out as a principle, not a convenient guideline.

Lack of Masculinity: An Imaginary Example

Let’s picture a scenario: a mother leaves a decade-long marriage with a father approaching his sixties. This man, despite his age, remains profoundly lacking in masculinity. His defining trait is not age but a consistent failure to confront problems. Instead of acting decisively when needed, he resorts to mindfulness, meditation, and other spiritual practices as a retreat from reality. When faced with confrontation, he withdraws, rationalizing his passivity as spiritual elevation rather than acknowledging it as emotional avoidance.

A Personality Pre-disposed to Weak Masculinity

In terms of personality traits, this hypothetical father exhibits a profile that inherently makes exercising masculinity difficult:

High Agreeableness: High biological politeness and excessive empathy, making him avoidant of conflict and overly compliant.
Low Assertiveness: As a sub-facet of extraversion, his low assertiveness renders him passive and hesitant.
High Neuroticism: Particularly prone to withdrawal, but occasionally prone to volatility when stress becomes overwhelming.

This configuration makes him predisposed to masculine inadequacy—a combination of excessive sensitivity, reluctance to assert, and emotional instability.

Behavioral Displays of Weak Masculinity

Behaviorally, this lack of masculinity manifests in dramatic and self-deprecating ways:

Emotional Meltdowns: Scenes where he clings to the foot of his departing wife, sobbing in front of the children—a theatrical display of helplessness rather than strength.
Volatile Outbursts: Despite his tendency to withdraw, moments of high stress can trigger erratic behavior—like telling his children to assure their mother it’s safe to come back because he “won’t beat her”—a statement not only bizarre but revealing of his twisted rationalizations.
Revenge Fantasies: After the mother leaves, he vows to "find a younger woman to destroy you!", and true to his word, becomes a sugar daddy to a woman 25 years his junior. This isn’t just an isolated reaction; it is the culmination of a lifetime of weakness masquerading as rebellion. It’s a desperate grasp for control after being rejected—a life narrative shaped by reactive, rather than proactive, choices.

Behavior Reflecting Value Hierarchies

This behavior is not incidental; it’s rooted in his lack of moral absolutes. His worldview lacks concrete normative frameworks and instead embraces a situational, fluid morality:

Moral Relativism: He perceives morality as a "question of situative sensing" rather than an anchored principle.
Selective Causality: He rationalizes his behavior with beliefs in limited causality and spiritual energies, justifying lies as acts of mercy to protect others from pain—a twisted application of Western mysticism and neo-Taoism.
Agreement as a Suggestion: For him, agreements aren’t commitments but "fluid understandings" that evolve with universal energies. Real commitments, in his view, are those that "aren’t forced but discovered".

The Issue of Moral Absolutes in Masculine Identity

In his mind, there can be no moral absolutes because existence itself is indeterminate and fluctuating. Thus, he finds solace in meditative mindfulness instead of concrete actions. It’s a perpetual self-justification loop: the absence of commitment is not weakness, but a cosmic openness to the universe. This mindset, however, completely undermines the responsibility-driven masculinity that his role as a father requires.

The Core Problem: Replacing Responsibility with Rationalization

By allowing fluidity to replace responsibility, this hypothetical father not only fails himself but also fails his children. His narrative of passivity is cemented by a worldview that excuses weakness as spiritual insight. The result is not just personal failure but a generational ripple effect, as his children internalize the message that responsibility can always be deferred to circumstance.

Effective Loss of Fatherhood

Now, let’s imagine that this kind of emasculated father actually tries to teach his son how to be masculine. Picture it: the father, emotionally frail and consistently reactive, sits his son down and declares,

"Dear boy, life is hard, anything could happen, but you always have to be tough as a man! Don’t let emotions rule over you—appreciate family, respect women, and honor your word."

The son would most likely look at him as if he’d completely lost touch with reality, perhaps pat him on the shoulder with a mix of pity and confusion, and walk away in silence. Why? Because practically everything this man has done so far contradicts the very words he’s trying to preach.

He has demonstrated an absolute lack of masculinity:

Lack of Principled Manhood: Morphing into “A Chair” over the years, mistaking it for kindness, and not realizing there was no foundational power to accompany that.
Insincerity in Relationships: Engaging in a revenge-driven, transactional relationship with a sugar babe as a twisted compensation for his lost marriage.
Destruction of Family Ideals: Clinging to his ex-wife even after she has clearly moved on, while simultaneously trying to fill the void with a younger, incompatible partner.
Absence of Self-Respect: Trying to compensate for his core identity as “a Chair” by becoming a sugar daddy, purely as a spiteful act against the woman he still loves—an embodiment of bitterness masquerading as independence.
Denying Responsibility: Demonstrating an inability to take responsibility, and allowing himself to be moved around like a Chair, further reinforcing his role as a warning rather than an example.

In the son’s eyes, the father’s actions and words are comically contradictory at best, and tragically hypocritical at worst. The man himself has become a cautionary tale—living proof that a lack of authentic masculinity erodes respect and credibility - A Chair, and a weak Chair.

The Real Reason Fathers Lose Their Children

Such fathers often convince themselves that they lost their children because of some manipulative plot orchestrated by a younger, more masculine “replacement dad”—often the new spouse of the ex-wife. But this belief is a distortion of reality.

The new man in the mother’s life likely has no ambition to become the father figure. He’s not scheming or aiming to steal anyone’s role. He’s simply a hard-working, stable man who naturally embodies the masculine traits necessary to build a healthy family dynamic:

Consistency and Responsibility: He doesn’t seek drama; he seeks stability.
Honest Commitment: He respects the mother within a logical age range, demonstrating a balanced approach to relationships.
Principled Behavior: He isn’t interested in games or revenge. He just wants a solid family structure where respect and love coexist.

In reality, the emasculated father’s downfall was not orchestrated by anyone else. It’s not the result of a wicked conspiracy or a calculated plot by another man. The truth is simpler—and sadder. The father’s own inability to embody healthy masculinity, his consistent displays of weakness and volatility, and his lack of coherent moral absolutes led to his self-cancellation as a father figure (becoming a Chair).

The new man didn’t take over. He didn’t have to. The father himself vacated his role by failing to demonstrate the strength, stability, and moral clarity that would have kept him respected and relevant in his children’s lives.

Boundaries Through Responsibility - The Fate of Daughters

When discussing reputable fatherhood and healthy masculinity, it’s essential to recognize that the father’s influence extends far beyond the father-son relationship. In many respects, the father’s role in shaping his daughter’s values and sense of boundaries is even more critical. Setting boundaries and guiding daughters through personal example and clear moral absolutes is not just essential—it’s fundamental. The father’s role in this regard often has long-lasting effects on the daughter’s value system and her future relationships.

No Girl Is Born a Sugar Babe

No girl is inherently destined to become a sugar babe, entering a transactional relationship with a man roughly a quarter of a century older in exchange for financial perks like exotic trips, car leases, or access to properties. The idea that someone could be "born" into such a life is profoundly misleading. Instead, what we see is a pattern where the use of sex and sexuality as a tradeable commodity emerges over time, shaped by specific developmental conditions.

This pattern is scientifically proven to have strong ties to father figures and masculinity—particularly the kind of responsibility-based masculinity that should be modeled in childhood. One of the most crucial episodes in a girl’s life in this regard is the loss of virginity.

The Dangerous First Step: A Case of Lost Boundaries

Imagine a scenario where a young girl loses her virginity underage, perhaps to a father’s friend in the backseat of an old sports car, or to a distant relative while under the influence of drugs, or to a car wash coworker twice her age who lures her upstairs under the pretext of “watching TV and trying some drinks.” These aren’t isolated, tragic incidents that just happen to an unlucky child—they are outcomes of a causal chain of events.

This chain invariably begins with fatherhood, or more precisely, with the absence of responsible, boundary-setting masculinity. Such traumatic experiences don’t just fall from the sky. They are not random disasters like a rare illness or an earthquake in a foreign land. Instead, they are predictable consequences when a father fails to establish boundaries and set rules.

Responsibility in fatherhood cannot be delegated. It must be lived and demonstrated. If a father regularly gets drunk, he loses the moral authority to talk to his daughter about responsible drinking. If he has a pattern of infidelity, fathering children outside his family and creating a web of estranged half-siblings, he forfeits the right to teach his daughter about sexual propriety and commitment.

When a father fails to model discipline, he effectively loses his moral license to advise his daughter on the very pitfallsshe may encounter. It’s not just about rules on paper—it’s about the rules in life. Daughters learn not from lectures but from the observable consistency of their father’s character and actions.

A Father’s Love Without Backbone: Bittersweet and Broken

When a father lacks the crucial elements of responsible masculinity, all that remains is to give love—but even that love becomes bittersweet. It’s a lost love, a love tinged with regret and helplessness. It’s the love of a man who knows he has failed to be a role model. It’s a bandage on a poisoned wound—a desperate embrace, knowing full well that he has let her go and failed to protect her.

Such love becomes performative rather than transformative. It’s like telling a dying child that everything will be okay, even when the reality is irreversible. Beneath this shallow reassurance lies the brutal truth: the father failed to sacrifice his own ego for the well-being of his daughter. Instead, he ended up sacrificing her future for his own momentary comforts and failures.

Emasculated Postmodern Versions of True Eastern Philosophies

Can the Eastern approach stand as a solution? Masculinity cannot be resurrected by piling on lies and deception, nor can it be summoned by crafting one's own paradoxical versions of Taoism, Buddhism, Confucianism, Hinduism, or other Eastern traditions. These philosophies, traditionally rooted in directness, honesty, courage, integrity, and harmony, often end up distorted when practiced by elderly men who have failed to embody masculine virtues, instead displaying exaggeratedly feminine traits. The result is a misguided and almost caricatured representation of what these teachings truly stand for.

Authentic Masculine Approaches in Eastern Philosophies

A truly masculine Eastern approach to conflict involves open dialogue and honest expression, aiming to resolve misunderstandings through direct conversation rather than behind-the-back scheming. At the core are courage and honesty: the willingness to admit mistakes, apologize when necessary, and engage without concealing intentions.

A real practitioner would address a conflict by calmly stating the problem and seeking mutual understanding, approaching challenges with calm assertiveness, dignity, and respect. Directness is not just a technique; it’s a fundamental principle—a way to maintain balance without distorting the situation. Real men face adversaries head-on, both physically and morally, while maintaining inner peace and integrity.

The Problem with Pseudo-Practitioners

In stark contrast, the feminine, emasculated version of a fake practitioner tends to favor indirect, sneaky conflict resolution (much like the “Chair” we described)—like sending a passive-aggressive email, assuming that subtle mockery from a distance somehow makes a point. This approach lacks the courage and directness that characterize the masculine archetype. Such behavior often reveals emotional evasion—a desire to hurt without being accountable. Sending derogatory messages behind someone’s back, avoiding face-to-face meetings (or worse, claiming that such “imaginary” meetings have taken place) says more about projecting one’s own insecurity than making a meaningful statement.

True practitioner of Eastern philosophies would approach another man directly, speak plainly and honestly, and stand by his word—whether making a commitment or offering an apology. This requires the courage to confront one’s own flaws, acknowledge limitations, and maintain the integrity to act consistently with moral values.

Why They Avoid Direct Confrontation

Why do they fear direct confrontation? Much of that resonates with the “Chair story" we discussed. The answer is simple: most of their criticism, if expressed face-to-face, would collapse under scrutiny. Imagine one of these pseudo-philosophers offering nutritional advice or tips on raising boys, only to be met with a simple, incisive question: “Why do other men have to raise your son?” Suddenly, the entire conversation turns into a comedy of errors.

You may cook the finest meals, but if your son is eating at someone else’s table, your advice on fatherhood rings hollow. Mocking from a distance only highlights the lack of true stoicism and reveals a deep-seated insecurity. It’s important, especially for young boys, to minimize exposure to this kind of mockery, as it offers no real value and can distort their understanding of authentic masculinity.

Authentic masculinity, according to these Eastern philosophies, is not about aggression, patronizing attitudes, or dominance, but about integrity, honesty, and inner strength. It requires the courage to be vulnerable, the discipline to be consistent, and the calmness to act with clarity and purpose. Real masculinity is not defined by mocking others from a distance but by standing firm in one’s values face to face, even when faced with criticism or conflict.

By embodying these principles, a man demonstrates not just physical strength but moral resilience—an essential trait for guiding not only oneself but also one’s children toward a life of honor and respect. This requires not letting one’s monkey mind or inherited mental vulnerabilities take over but instead cultivating calm, disciplined thought and action.

The Core of Masculine Responsibility

True fatherhood demands more than just affection. It requires sacrifice—not of the child’s future for the father’s ease, but of the father’s personal comfort for the child’s well-being. It means putting ego aside, holding oneself to a higher standard, and living a life that reflects the boundaries and values one wishes to impart.

This may sound harsh—and it is. When Nietzsche declared that "God is dead", he wasn’t merely lamenting the loss of religious faith; he was hinting at something deeper—the death of ultimate masculinity, the disciplined, principled force that anchors human dignity. In our society, this death wasn’t a tragic accident—it was an intentional killing, a systematic erosion of the very vertical alignment that allows men to rise above instant gratification and stay the course.

A father becomes a failure not because he lacks love or good intentions, but because he hasn’t found a higher alignment—a structure of moral absolutes that keeps him from slipping into the endless sea of self-indulgence. To expect a father to maintain this course and instill it in his children is almost absurdly idealistic. And yet, it remains the ideal, and ideals should not be discarded simply because they are hard to reach.

The Burden of Ideals and the Unforgiving Eye of the Child

The reality is brutal: a father will be judged not for the thousand times he stood firm, but for the one time he faltered. The child will remember the worst occasion when the father slipped—the moment when his integrity cracked, his resolve crumbled, or his words rang hollow. Children, especially daughters, will confront their fathers with relentless precision at the most inconvenient moments. They will demand answers not just to what was done, but to why it happened.

And in that moment, the father has only one option: tell the truth—no matter what. He must be a role model not only in actions but in words. He must demonstrate the precision of speech and the willingness to face his own flaws. It’s a standard that would break any man, and yet it remains non-negotiable. Why? Because there is no judge or jury harsher than the innocence in the eyes of your child. That innocence is pure, unfiltered, and unwavering, because a child’s love is unconditional—a love that can be shattered irreparably by just one lie.

Children See Through Lies—Especially Daughters

Children are not foolish. They see through pretense, especially when it comes from the one person they instinctively trust. Daughters, in particular, are remarkably perceptive. When a father enters territory he can’t explain away, no amount of flowery rhetoric or long-winded justifications will suffice. You could craft a Luciferian argument with all the cunning of Paradise Lost and still fail to convince a ten-year-old girl. Her innate sharpness and moral clarity cut through it all.

Daughters know instinctively when their father is trying to mask a failure or avoid accountability. The most devastating aspect of this interaction is not the moral failure itself, but the lack of honesty about it. A father who sidesteps the truth, who blames circumstances or retreats into convoluted excuses, not only loses his moral standing but also risks dismantling his daughter’s belief in his integrity.

The Path to Sugar Babedom: When Truth Dies

This is the point where the erosion of fatherhood can give birth to something even more tragic. The father’s inability to own up to his failures not only alienates him from his daughter but plants the seeds of future self-betrayal within her. This is how daughters lose their moral compass, learning that truth is flexible, that honesty is a matter of convenience. This gradual erosion of moral absolutes is what sets the stage for the daughter to eventually fall into relationships devoid of dignity, such as the sugar babe dynamic.

This failure to teach honesty and responsibility is not just a parenting mistake—it’s the cradle of future exploitation. The daughter, having learned that lies are acceptable when they serve a purpose, becomes vulnerable to men who promise security through deception. In essence, her motherhood is lost long before it even begins because the father never stood firm as the embodiment of truth. If such girls become mothers, and their behavioral pattern of lying, manipulation, and self-serving explanations to avoid responsibility continues, they too will lose their children. First, the children will start calling them “the lying mom,” and eventually, they will see them as a warning rather than a role model. All they need to break this cycle is clarity and role models who simply tell the truth.

Resurrecting Masculinity: Reclaiming the Truth

The resurrection of masculinity does not come from reclaiming dominance or asserting control. It comes from owning one’s flaws, from having the courage to admit mistakes, and from setting the standard of honesty even when it is painful and humiliating. It means standing before your child and saying: “I failed. I was weak. But I will do better.”

That is the real strength—not the illusion of perfection but the resilience to face one’s own brokenness and strive to repair it. Masculinity, in its truest form, is not the absence of vulnerability but the courage to confront it head-on.

Little Less Tolle, Little More Tate—and Then the Long Way Toward Meekness

So, what’s the solution? How do we revive masculinity that’s been smothered by comfort, diluted by passivity, and emasculated by endless contemplation? The first step might sound surprising, even controversial: we need to shake masculinity awake—give it a jolt, a wake-up call, something to get it moving.

Men, especially those whose biological disposition leans toward high agreeableness and low assertiveness, have sunk into the soft rhythms of Western mysticism. They’ve become silent dreamers, lost in the trance of Eckhart Tolle’s soothing philosophies. Now, don’t get me wrong—there’s nothing inherently wrong with mindfulness and acceptance. It’s just that they’re not the solution. They act as a comfortable escape, a way to avoid confronting the harsh realities of emasculation.

Sometimes, the first antidote to this softness is something I don’t usually endorse—a good dose of Tate brothers, with their raw and unapologetic take on masculinity. No, it’s not the final answer. It’s a kickstart—something to snap men out of their docile complacency. It’s like cold water on the face after a long, dazed sleep. The directness, the unapologetic honesty about male strength and power—that’s just the beginning.

But here’s the crucial part: if one stops there, it’s still incomplete. It’s just the reaction to the problem, not the solution itself. From that initial jolt, a vertical axis has to be built—a connection to higher values that are rooted in moral absolutes. Without that, masculinity remains loud, brash, and potentially dangerous. It lacks depth and purpose, and at worst, it becomes nothing more than performative aggression.

The Evolution from Raw Power to Moral Strength

The dangerous element of masculinity must exist—it’s essential. But it has to be transformed into something disciplined, confident, and restrained. The difference between a reckless brute and a man of strength is the ability to hold back when necessary, to choose gentleness when power could easily overwhelm.

Here’s where the wisdom of ancient teachings comes in. Consider Matthew 5:5 (ESV):
"Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth."

In essence, the meek are not weaklings. They are those who possess power—the potential for assertiveness, even violence—but who consciously choose gentleness and peace. Meekness, therefore, is not the absence of strength but the presence of self-control. It’s power harnessed, not power abandoned.

That’s the end goal of healthy masculinity. These men can be recognized at any age as the opposite of emasculated sugar daddies. They embody strength but are willing to use it only when necessary.

True Masculinity Embodied: A Story of Gentle Strength

Consider the story of a wise old man whose daughter was insulted by another man. The father didn’t shout or make a scene. He just walked up to the guy and had a quiet chat. There were no more insults after that. When someone later asked him what he had said, he replied simply:
“I told him that if he ever insults her again, I will put him in the hospital—or maybe he won’t be here anymore. And when he said I would go to jail, I told him I’d gladly go for the right thing.”

Now, why did this work? Because it wasn’t just empty threats. That man was no Chair—quite the opposite. There was no bluster or posturing. The confidence came from a lifetime of principled living—a willingness to fight for the right reason. Real masculinity doesn’t seek conflict, but it also doesn’t shy away from it when necessary. He meant what he said.

If a weak, emasculated “pussified” man tried to pull off the same act, it would end in pity or ridicule. Why? Because for such sugar daddies, there’s no substance behind the words—no embodiment of a life lived with principles and moral absolutes. It would just sound like the hollow cries of desperation—akin to those incoherent letters he wrote in a manic fit to friends and relatives, begging them to endorse the return of the love of his life. A long-lost battle fought in madness inherited—femininity taking over. Chaos ruling without restrictions. A lack of fatherhood or family to set things right—whether rooted in biological ties or formed through non-biological bonds, like a brotherhood organization, an army, or any other strong, reputable institution.

Words without substance—that’s what failed masculinity sounds like. True masculinity, however, is the combination of power and restraint, of strength tempered by humility.

Power, Kindness, and Responsibility—In That Order

The Truth About Fatherhood: Power, Kindness, and Moral Control

The truth is, becoming a father is the hardest task a man can undertake. To be a good father, you must first become powerful—then become kind—and keep both under strict moral control. That’s the balance. Without power, there’s no foundation. Without kindness, there’s no humanity. And without moral absolutes, there’s no guiding principle.

This is the story of Father Zosima—developing the ability for genuine kindness while being fully aware that he too is capable of killing a person in rage, prepared for violence and anger. It’s the story of everyone who has had to fight for their life and family — whether behind the table or on the streets. One should also note that a Father Zosima becomes a wise old man (in every sense), while a person who lacks sufficient fatherhood first becomes a Chair and then a Sugar Daddy instead. Unfortunately, these are the pathways.

That’s why one should appreciate every little romantic gesture from men who have truly reached manhood and fatherhood, regardless of age. Those gestures cannot be perfect because of the seriousness instilled in the souls of such men. They are imperfect in all sorts of small ways, but at least they are keenly aware of the evil side within them—a side they must keep under control by imposing morality on themselves, a responsibility picked up and carried willingly. They harbor no illusions, and that is why they are cautious about generating them in others. They know that life contains much suffering, and they have the strength to face it.

Their gestures are genuine, backed by real balanced masculinity, not the theatrical, overly romantic “special risotto sunsets” staged by “Chair” type men, who possess only one half of the whole—the part that dominates their self: luring romanticism, extreme agreeableness, endless compassion, and empathy. It is very tempting to sit on them, move them around, and secretly dominate. However, that kind of relationship is essentially a union between two feminine forces—between a woman and a Chair. Even their friends and close relatives nod in sadness: “He is very affectionate and kind, just no balls.” And that’s not something they say triumphantly—they say it with genuine pity.

Thus, men should be viewed differently, and the need for healthy aggression should not be disregarded or brushed off lightly—there is much more to it.

The road to true masculinity and fatherhood is like walking up a steep hill, carrying one’s cross while looking after the family, making sure there is true alignment. It’s impossible to do perfectly—but if one puts in everything, they might just come close to being sufficient.

And Is It Worth It? Absolutely.

Not because of some abstract moral superiority, but because the alternative is far worse — your sons becoming rebels, anarchists, or just Chairs, and your daughters becoming sugar babes or just aimless targets for abuse right under your watch. Or, worse still, losing them completely to other, more principled men who have the strength you couldn’t muster. The alternative should be a far scarier prospect than doing the hard work of embodying healthy masculinity. Because when it comes to fatherhood, the stakes are too high to get this wrong.

There is a huge burden of suffering interwoven into the fabric of life, and the worst discovery one could make too late in life is that denying the role of a father and not taking on the harsh responsibility as true masculinity does not eliminate that suffering — it just makes it meaningless.

William Parvet