Women, or let’s say most women, cannot grow beards. That is a biological fact. The cultural meaning of the beard, this seemingly incontrovertible emblem of masculinity, has undergone a profound and rarely-discussed transformation in recent years.  

Sage McLauglin writes:

Thank you for your lovely and challenging weblog. It is a delight. 

I have only one thing to add to the discussion you’ve begun about “the male with no plumage.” There is another data point which is consistent with your view that the contemporary move toward casual dress is an assault on masculine authority. Notice the difference between the men in the two photos (see below). Yes, all the men in that goofy shot of Bill Gates and his cuddly buddies are clean-shaven, whereas almost all the men in the older photo are wearing at least some part of their beards. In my own work I have noticed a palpable suspicion for men with facial hair. To the contemporary office boss (very often a woman), such men appear not to be properly sterilized, groomed, and domesticated. In a building with dozens of men working away the day, I am one of only two or three that actually grows out some part of his beard. I am aware that when I interview for a job, I am at a slight and unspoken disadvantage for having a short beard, but I wear it anyway, not out of principle, but because as a man it is by far the more natural and convenient way for my face to be. That beards and mustaches for men have fallen so completely out of fashion—something really unprecedented, I believe—is symptomatic of a much more significant change in attitudes about men and masculinity. 

I don’t think there is a hard and fast rule concerning beards that ought to be observed, by the way. But the default judgment against wearing facial hair is undeniable, and notable. I do believe it is related to the fact that women cannot grow them, and they are a symbol both of an assertive masculinity, and the authority of the older man. In my company the managers with the most experience, the really wizened and knowledgeable practitioners, are referred to as “gray beards.” Over a thousand years ago, the pre-Mongol societies of the Central Asian steppe referred to the ruling men of their tribes as the “Oq Soqol,” or “white beards.” Today, we are encouraged to call them by their first names.

Laura writes:

Thank you for writing.

Yes, I did notice that about the beards in the photo (and the heavy sideburns of Charles Eliot, then president of Harvard) and I believe I mentioned it. But don’t you think the image of male facial hair was hurt by the 60’s counterculture? Can the beard ever lose its association in the popular mind with bad folk music and marijuana? (This is not my personal view. My husband has worn a beard for the 23 years we’ve been married.) Once a symbol of male stature and of meticulous grooming, it seems to stand for 60’s-style sentimentality and the revolt against authority. The beard is more common among liberals, isn’t it? Only in an age of strangely inverted sex roles could male facial hair seem, well, effeminate. On the other hand, perhaps the beard is still emphatically masculine as Mr. McLaughlin says and thus naturally offends the female corporate automaton. Perhaps this is so even in the case of neatly-groomed beards and mustaches, although many men keep their beards so scruffy, they seem to be consciously rebelling against feminine tidyness and domestication.

Sage replies:

Yes, beards seem to be more common among liberals now, and the thought did occur to me that today, the beard is more associated with unruly, undisciplined, directionless young men. And it’s also true that there is a sort of unkempt look that one sees, for example on young male actors (I hesitate even to call them men), that is self-conscious and yet stands as a rebuke against a truly disciplined adult life. 

As in all things, I think there is a necessary balance here that it is the business of a healthy culture to express. Fruitful masculinity is really a matter of bringing order and purpose to something dangerous and wild (thus the importance of tradition in military academies). A man’s Promethean energy was symbolized by fire, which can be destructive and all-consuming, or harnessed and constrained into live-giving heat. That’s pretty much my definition of civilization. 

A properly groomed beard or mustache (or sideburns, which I dislike only as a matter of taste) expresses something really different from the slovenly disregard for the self of the bohemian or the hippy. One is a symbol of a man’s taking seriously his place in society-asserting himself as a man while respecting the conventions of civilized society. The other is, again, merely a rebuke of the discipline required of a civilized man, a different sort of self-assertion altogether, the assertion of the self unmoored from social convention or the limits of natural reason. I sense that if liberals wear beards more often than conservatives these days, it’s because they wear them for different reasons and, after all, we’re in a liberal society.

                                            —– Comments ——

Larry B. writes:

As mentioned, I think the beard can work both ways. It is intrinsically masculine in that it is something forever out of the reach of feminists—barring extreme science. I’ve noticed too the high prevalence of scruffy growth among the 1960’s and 1970’s artists, social layabouts/justice workers, and other elements of fashionable Bohemia. This in oppose to the mutton chops of the 1800’s, the mustaches of the West, and the full beards of the upper social reaches and those who wished (understandably) to join. The Romans had to keep clean shaven, while those monarchs and knights of the Germanic Roman Empire did not—some element of it is cultural. Today the beard is most popular, again, among the voluntary, romanticized poor, commonly known as hipsters. Having disregarded any respect or inclination for upward mobility, professionalism, or serious regard for the upkeep of society from the individual on up to its governors, the one element of manliness they still have is facial hair. It is something that almost every man, even if squeamish and pasty, can still grow, and can still provide a thin imitation of manliness even with the loss of all others. In many professions today, facial hair is frowned upon, and some of that is probably related to the cultural effects of feminism. The beard remains a way out. It is a sort of desperate last attempt at manliness for those without the common regard for prosperity of well being—those being hipsters who are floated by wealthy baby-boomers, or the Hollywood types, who have their own guild to contain and secure them. They cannot behave like men, but they still want to look like men. Anyone who lives by hipsters, as I do, will notice right away that their most apparent trait is insecurity.

Laura writes:

Mutton chops! That’s it. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember the name for the sideburns worn by Mr. Eliot.

Fitzgerald writes:

The ancient tradition is that beards are an external demonstration of manly wisdom. Only pagans were clean shaven, most notably Romans. Eastern Christians and Orthodox Jews have maintained this tradition and a beard is considered ideal for lay men and clergy alike. In the West the churchmen were often bearded in the Early Church, but over time the tradition of men of stature sporting beards, even carefully trimmed beards, was dispensed with. In the middle-ages and up until the 14th-15th century knights, monarchs and other men of prominence considered beards a sign of virility and honor. By the latter half of the 15th century most men were clean shaven. El Cid, the famous Castillian knight was referred to as “the one with the flowery beard.” The Roman curia and Bishops in particular are most often clean shaven since the 15th century, although there are some rare exceptions, most Eastern Catholic clergy and hierarchs. 

When I was young I was clean shaven. I first grew a beard largely on the recommendations of my wife who agreed it was an outward sign of manliness and felt I should reinforce it. I complied happily and will never go back.  

The modern perspective that beards are only worn by hippies, loser and revolutionaries is a perverse inversion of the tradition. One can hardly consider the modern, emasculated, feminized “male” sporting this obviously manly form of plumage. Grow beards men!!

A. Servant writes:

I agree with the observations on the correlation between beards, wisdom and masculinity, and would like to add one more. Over the last ten years, a style has developed with young males where they shave all of their beard but for a thin line that follows the jaw and chin all the way around, in kind of a “traced” line. There is probably now a hip name for this practice or style, but I am ignorant of it. I think it started in the black community and was popularized through hip hop culture and is more prevalent among Latinos or blacks than whites, but I see more and more whites aping it. 

This gives me the creeps. I think it looks intentionally super-effeminate and speaks of an individual that is flaunting his emasculation. It is a hyper-delicate modification to a feature that embodies a mature, wise, strong male. The time and effort it must take to maintain this look also screams of little “girly men” posing in front of a mirror for hours to prim themselves as though they were spoiled, narcissistic teenage girls. It shouts to me of mocking all that God meant for a man to be. I literally have a very hard time interacting with youth that have this look, and I often have to supervise them. It takes self control not to send them home with instructions to return only when they have learned to shave like a man. Of course, if I suggested this, I would probably lose my job.

I am happy to have the opportunity to voice this opinion because as petty as it may sound, this one style in particular among male youth has really bothered me for some time. A close second would be the backside hanging over the waistband, with the crotch at one’s knees.

Most young people are so clueless and self-absorbed that I have had a few young women over the years tell me that I should sport this look, it would “look really good on me.” It is amazing that they are completely unable to behold the obvious, that I am light years from the “in crowd” in demeanor, presentation and age. They don’t seem to be able to grasp the concept of age or position. On second thought, they probably do grasp it, they just don’t care, or they actually intentionally make comments that are against the grain and in line with their feminist brainwashed minds. They have a look of absolute confusion, frustration and bewilderment on their faces, as if I had just demanded from them that they would lose their jobs if they couldn’t walk on water, when I answer, “But I’m not gay.”

Van Wijk writes:

There’s an old Greek saying: “There are two kinds of people in this world that go around beardless—boys and women—and I am neither one.”

I’ve worn a full beard for the past 5 or 6 years. And I mean full, around 4 inches long at present (long enough to stroke when I’m thinking particularly hard about something or other). Some men decline to shave for two weeks and call the result a beard, but they are mistaken. I’m actually very grateful that I can grow a proper beard; there are few things more depressing than seeing a young man trying to grow a beard while having several large patches on his face and neck where hair refuses to grow.

Mustaches by themselves I’ve always found repellent for some reason.

Larry B.writes:

A. Servant refers to the hideous and appallingly popular Chinstrap Beard. Like the scraggily, unkempt facial hair of contemporary hipsters, the Chinstrap is, I think, a last resort foray at manliness, an hopeful reconciliation between the nascent desire by men to seem manly, and the more recent emphasis on conformity with societal standards of fashion and presentability as decided by women. Men are discouraged from having hair today. Chest hair, arm hair, armpit hair, leg hair…it’s all encouraged to be finely shaved or removed, perhaps in the hope that men and women may become less and less defined or distinguishable. Le Chinstrap is an attempt by self-conscious men who want a predominantly hairless face, so they can be stylish, but are also compelled to keep their thin line of sprouts, so any potential doubter will know, “Ah, this man/boy CAN, in fact, grow a beard. It’s his choice.” Of course, this stigma doesn’t apply to all purveyors of Le Chinstrap, but I do think this is largely what it has come to among the younger and commoner gentry. I first saw it on sports stars, who usually have their manliness accentuated by their very profession. It is now being imitated, but by hamstrung men whose fashion consciousness is a handicap to manhood.

Most every man can grow a beard. Back in the era when this thread’s photo was taken, there was some variation in style, but the hair was always full and understood. Now it’s not enough to have a beard, for today’s young man it has to be a beard that’s different from everyone else’s beard. A beard isn’t understood today simply as a sign of maturity with growing connotations of wisdom and experience. It’s a fall-back attempt at manliness groomed to be distinct and individual to the point where the beard too, loses its eminent potency. This conformity to differentiation, ironically, makes most everyone look similarly silly.

The modern man is caught between his proclivities towards manliness and his mild disposition, one often fraught with tertiary ridicule and hen-peckery. He seeks a compromise. He’ll have some hair, but it will be unique to him. While he may not be a peacock with all of his feathers, he’ll be a peacock whose feathers aren’t exactly like anybody else’s (though they still often are). A. Servant mentions that Le Chinstrap must take a long time to groom. This corresponds with the often awkward attempt of men at feminized fashion. What is now important is the evidence that one cares long and hard about one’s appearance—even if it’s silly and contradictory to one’s nature. They only historical precedent I can think of for Le Chinstrap is the 18th and 19th century thin mustache, but even that was far less ridiculous.

What would happen, I wonder, if we juxtaposed this modern man and ninth century Norway? While the modern man primps and frets for hours before his afternoon raids, his Viking buddies, all with their huge, braided, weather-beaten beards grow impatient and anxious outside. When the modern man emerges from his hut, his gleaming countenance delicately outline by a perfectly sculpted Chinstrap beard he would probably be scorned, laughed at, and made to stay at home with the women…but maybe that’s what he is more used to anyway.

Laura writes:

The Chinstrap is hideous and ridiculous. There’s something sinister and anti-social about it.

Please follow and like us: