What is a Good Man?

An antidote to masculine evil

Photo by Nik Shuliahin on Unsplash

In December of 2024, Dominique Pelicot was found guilty of drugging his wife Gisèle and filming her unconscious body getting raped by strangers from the internet.

The details of the many rapes, betrayals, and family destruction are devastating to contemplate. Gisèle’s heroism and unparalleled courage in the face of public scrutiny are extraordinary, but it is also impossible to not be horrified that such heroism and courage are necessary.

What has stayed with me the most are the facts about the Telegram group to which Dominique belonged. This group hosted rape videos, tips for assaulting family members, resources for rape drugs, and was populated by 70,000 men. These were, presumably, men with families, jobs, girlfriends, wives, and public reputations. The nightmare here cannot be overstated: these were 70,000 men who deliberately fetishized the rape of women they knew and were supposed to love.

Commenting on the Pelicot case, feminist Rachel Hewitt wrote,

I have no advice about how to spot men who are living out these secret, destructive, women-hating lives. I wish I knew. But from talking and listening to other women, I’d simply say this: women, trust your instincts. If something feels off in a man’s behaviour, take it seriously. Men maintain their secret lives by gaslighting women who become suspicious, by denying that any suspicion-arousing behaviour occurred, and by turning the blame back on women, suggesting they’re paranoid, controlling, mad. Pélicot encouraged Gisèle’s heart-breaking belief that she was suffering from dementia. I’d advise women to be aware of this tactic. I’d also recommend wariness if a man is performing a public act of virtue, or playing up his ‘family man’ role. Don’t necessarily see this as an indication of virtue through-and-through: it might well be the opposite, an attempt to over-compensate for secret malevolence. And I’d also be extremely cautious about men who spend a lot of time online, and are secretive regarding passwords and access to his phone.

I’ve been mulling over this paragraph ever since I read it. She is not the only woman I've come across who feels this way. A number of women I know express distrust of men in positions of power, especially men who exemplify virtue. They don't feel this way without cause. Almost all of them know women who have been abused by men in power or have been abused themselves.

The point about distrusting men in virtuous positions has only been reinforced by the fall of progressive star Neil Gaiman, who allegedly engaged in nonconsensual, violent, and degrading sex with women decades younger than him while he was publicly spouting feminist nothings about “believing women” in public.

For the past few months, I have been thinking about the necessity of good men and why we need them. We still need virtuous, strong, and courageous men, even when — perhaps especially when — these very attributes might mark them out for scrutiny. Most of all, I’ve wondered, is what makes a good man. This question is, I believe, of utmost urgency.

The following is my attempt to begin to answer the question. I’ve tried hard to not rely on clichés and to come up with answers that will capture the wide spectrum of masculinity. Men are warriors and kings, yes, but they are also lovers and magicians. Men will populate the wide spectrum of masculine performance, from scholars to construction workers, boxers to ballet dancers. Men will love women, but they will also love other men. All of this is beautiful, necessary, and requires a deeper answer to the question, “What is a good man?” than what culture so often gives us.

Everything here is provisional and incomplete, and likely disappointing. It’s the best I’ve come up with so far, but it is the beginning of the discussion, not the end.

A good man does not compartmentalize virtue

Compartmentalization is a dark superpower, and I know many men who excel at it. A man can live virtuously in public while living a secret life of vice; he can be a family man yet a dishonest womanizer; a generous giver to the poor yet an abuser behind closed doors; a prophet of moral clarity on the national stage yet a cruel and vindictive gollum elsewhere.

This is what’s so scary about those 70,000 men in that Telegram group: the majority of them are probably “decent” in public. They might even be virtuous, but they have compartmentalized their virtue.

So, the first test of a good man is whether he strives to allow the light of virtue to shine on all aspects of his life, even the most minuscule and inconsequential. This includes not merely his public life, but his private words and actions, his sex life, the porn he watches, the food he eats, how he treats animals, how he treats children, and his consumption of goods. The light of virtue is merciless, and not a single inch can be left unexamined.

A man will inevitably be a hypocrite in this regard — there will always be quarters he hides from himself, and it is the work of a lifetime to be refined from lead into moral gold. But strive he must. If he’s serious about this endeavor, he will follow these words of Pythagoras:

Admit not sleep into your tender eyelids
Till you have reckoned up each deed of the day—
How have I erred, what done or left undone?
So start, and so review your acts, and then
For vile deeds chide yourself, for good be glad.

A good man has a philosophy of life

It is impossible to not have a philosophy of life; the question is whether we have consciously chosen it or if we are unconsciously possessed by it. “You're gonna have to serve somebody,” sang Bob Dylan, which is another way of saying, “You’re gonna have to live out your beliefs in the world.” If you don’t know your beliefs, the world will shape them for you, and that is perilous.

When you ask a man what he believes and why, he should be able to tell you. He should have a philosophy that constrains his actions and encourages the best in him, and he should be able to articulate the reasons behind his principles.

I am partial to an amended Stoicism as a life philosophy, and I believe that the modern Stoic movement is positive. Assuming a guy will dig just an inch deeper than the broist slop on YouTube and TikTok, he will encounter a philosophy that doesn't allow him a single inch of ethical slack. Stoicism teaches that one should do a moral inventory every night, that virtue is the highest good, and that nothing — not pleasure, leisure, disease, or heartbreak — can be traded against virtue.

But Humanism, some forms of Christianity, Paganism, Buddhism, and even ethical Satanism work just as well. At least have a philosophy. Having a self-conscious, self-chosen ethical philosophy will put a man in the upper percentile of men. We can argue over the details later.

If you are a man who doesn’t know what he believes and why, it’s ok to be confused, lost, and dazzled by the world. I can’t imagine a more human condition. At least recognize the need to think coherently about your values, and start making steps towards that distant mountain. I recommend starting with what you know, which is likely Christianity, humanism, or Buddhism.

A good man is accountable to others

When I was a minister of Satan, I was held to a stringent standard for ministerial conduct and had to sign an agreement that I would uphold these standards in all aspects of my life. I was also under the authority of a body called the Suryan Council which could discipline me for any infraction of the code of conduct. Any person, Satanist or not, could submit a complaint about me and I would be investigated. If I bullied a stranger on the internet, that stranger could file a complaint with SurCo and I would have to answer for it.

For all the complications in my past as a Satanist, I believe that my accountability as a minister was one of the shining lights — something that the Satanists got very right. We need accountability.

I am now in a men’s organization that has accountability at its core. Every week, we ask each other if we are in accountability (to others) and in integrity (with ourselves.) This could be a small agreement ( e.g. I told myself I would do pushups 5 days this week and I didn’t) or something very grave (e.g. I promised my wife I would stop cheating on her and I broke that promise.)

The men then ask the brutal questions: “What did you do instead of keeping your word?” “Is this the man you want to be?” “What is the cause of your failure?” I am expected to have an answer to all of these questions. If I don’t, they help me find them. And then, I’m assigned a bro who will help me keep my word to myself and others for the rest of the week. This radically transforms my behavior because I know that I will have to answer to the Council of Bros every week.

I’m not saying any of this to elevate myself above others; quite the opposite. I need this sort of accountability because I am untrustworthy on my own. I’m a moral weakling; all of us are. I know this. So I have to submit to the accountability of others to be the good man I want to be.

If a man does not have accountability, he is dangerous to himself, and occasionally and frighteningly to others. A man needs something — a friend, a spouse, a pastor, a therapist, a Satanic Suryan Council, or a men’s group — that will keep him honest. “The heart is deceitful above all things,” says the Bible (Jeremiah 17:9.) A bit melodramatic in my opinion, but I take the point.

We should all be able to ask a man, “Who is keeping you accountable? Who do you answer to? If you don’t have accountability, why? Are you trying to find it?” If he gets angry, defensive, or argues that he doesn’t need something like that and that he’s fine on his own, run. He’s a ticking time bomb.

A good man has an inner sage

An internal compass is also needed; a man cannot rely on his friends alone. Rather than solely relying on external accountability, we also need to develop our own internal moral voice. In his 11^th letter to Lucilius, Seneca writes,

Hear and take to heart this useful and wholesome motto: “Cherish some man of high character, and keep him ever before your eyes, living as if he were watching you, and ordering all your actions as if he beheld them.” ^9. Such, my dear Lucilius, is the counsel of Epicurus; he has quite properly given us a guardian and an attendant. We can get rid of most sins, if we have a witness who stands near us when we are likely to go wrong. The soul should have someone whom it can respect,—one by whose authority it may make even its inner shrine more hallowed. Happy is the man who can make others better, not merely when he is in their company, but even when he is in their thoughts! And happy also is he who can so revere a man as to calm and regulate himself by calling him to mind! One who can so revere another, will soon be himself worthy of reverence. Choose therefore a Cato; or, if Cato seems too severe a model, choose some Laelius, a gentler spirit. Choose a master whose life, conversation, and soul-expressing face have satisfied you; picture him always to yourself as your protector or your pattern. For we must indeed have someone according to whom we may regulate our characters; you can never straighten that which is crooked unless you use a ruler.

Most men already have an inner sage. Unfortunately, these sages, like life philosophies, are unconsciously chosen and provided by popular culture. Every man — particularly young men — has some idealized man that he looks up to. As a teenager, my sages were Marilyn Manson, Hunter S. Thompson, Trent Reznor, and Alice Cooper. Hardly ideal male role models, except for Alice Cooper, who turned out to be a stealthy recovered alcoholic and Christian in gallows makeup.

A man must deliberately choose a sage and live every moment of his life as if that sage is watching him. We can quibble over which sage is best later. Choosing a virtuous inner sage will put a man in the upper percentile of men.

We should be able to ask a man who his sage is and receive a coherent answer. Maybe it’s his grandfather, Jesus, Socrates, Buddha, Mr. Rogers, or some composite figure of his own invention.

A good man follows the Campground Rule

Sex columnist Dan Savage coined the Campsite Rule for sexual relationships, and I believe it is one of the most succinct and coherent articulations of a sexual ethic:

If you’re in a sexual relationship with somebody significantly younger or less-experienced than you, the rule that applies at campsites shall be applicable to you: you must leave them in at least as good a state (physically and emotionally) as you found them in. That means no STDs, no unwanted pregnancy, not overburdening them with your emotional or sexual baggage, and so on. Younger partners and particularly virgins will often take everything given to them by an older, more experienced partner as being “written in stone,” and will carry around everything they learn from them for the rest of their life: so treat them right!

He is specifically speaking to relationships with age gaps, but the rule applies to all sexual relationships, including with oneself. As I’ve written elsewhere, The Campsite Rule includes but is not limited to the six principles of sexual health as articulated by Douglas Braun-Harvey and Michael A. Vigorito: consent; nonexploitation; protection from STI’s and unintended pregnancy; honesty; shared values; mutual pleasure.

But I now believe the Campsite Rule is not enough. It is too atomized and focused on the individual. In its place, I propose the Campground Rule: when you have sex, you must leave your partner and the world better than you found them, or at the very least not worse. Contrary to what many enlightened individuals say, it does in fact matter to other people what you do in the privacy of your bedroom with other consenting adults, and we must ask whether such actions are benefitting or harming our communities. A lot of men do not follow the Campsite or the Campground Rules, and that’s bad news for the world.

If we are engaging in reckless chemsex, enabling each other’s addictions and worst impulses, we are not following the Campground Rule. We all eventually leave that orgy and live out our hungry-ghost lives in society. I have known countless people whose childhoods were destroyed by their parents’ revolving door of sexual partners — these parents were not following the Campground Rule. When sex involves dishonesty, comes into conflict with life’s responsibility, compassion for others, or involves coercion in any way, that is a failure to uphold the Campground Rule.

I don’t believe following the Campground Rule demands a solely vanilla and monogamous life. I have, at times, engaged in a Dionysian lifestyle, and I don’t regret it. I think sexual pleasure is awesome and should be enjoyed, and I make no apologies for the sexual life I have lived. I also think masculine sexual movements like NoFap are silly and counterproductive — I’m ProFap. I don’t have a problem in principle with porn, kink, or non-monogamy —I have enjoyed each.

I do believe that sexual pleasure must be transfigured by a relentless ethic and that it must never be traded against virtue, integrity, and the common good. When pleasure comes into conflict with virtue, the latter wins every time. The debate, of course, is what that means. Many will argue that kink, nonmonogamy, and porn are de facto outside the common good. I disagree. It is also likely that my more traditionalist readers will now suspect that I have given myself a moral loophole; that I want to have my cake and eat it, too. That’s fine. What matters, for our purposes here, is that we agree that the common good exists and that we must align our sexual lives with it. We can do what humanity has done for thousands of years and argue over what that means in another post.

A good man knows himself

One of the hardest challenges of my life is not merely to lean into my strengths, but to acknowledge my limitations. I am not a lone hero, unsupported, and unafraid. I am, in fact, afraid and weak when I am isolated. These are the facts of the human condition. Knowing that I need love, companionship, friendship, and community is far harder than knowing I am strong.

But strength itself has a worm that must be known. The great irony of being a good man, a heroic man, and a strong man, is that he is capable of doing incalculable harm to others. Therefore, to know one’s goodness is to know one’s darkness. We are all given power — sexual power, intellectual power, physical power, relational power — and we must all wield it compassionately. To be a wise man, a leader, a physically strong man — to wield any power of any kind at all — is to be capable of enormous evil.

Every man’s body, by merit of his sexual instrument and the testosterone coursing through his veins, is capable of being a weapon against the innocent. I sometimes wonder if a particular type of man sees all this and shrinks away from strength, leadership, power, and developing his character. When we have Jeffrey Epsteins, Dominique Pelicots and Harvey Weinsteins as models for powerful men, it’s no wonder that men shrink from being male.

And when people revile men’s fitness, I sometimes wonder if it’s because gym bros can so easily coerce and hurt other people with their bodies, and we don’t like that. Having bigger muscles means being able to hurt other people. We don’t want to be leaders because we don’t want to be violent; we don’t want to use our bodies and our sexuality to hurt others. And so we retreat from our strength.

Most men are not like Dominique Pelicot or the 70k men in the Telegram group. But every man is capable of both grave and banal evil. Every human being, male and female alike, will always be presented with the capacity to exact enormous harm against another human. This could come in the form of greed, deception, or sexual and physical abuse. We are all capable of horrors, and we never know when this moral test will come. At some point in your life, probably soon, you will be confronted with an opportunity to wound another person. You, like Galadriel and Gandalf, will be offered the One Ring — an opportunity for horrible power over another person. The only thing standing between you and that moral failure is luck, mercy, and self-knowledge.

A good man loves

All of these rules will likely be met with the complaint that they are an impossibly high standard — that no man can live up to them. Yes. These values make hypocrites of us all. No one ever said having principles would be easy.

There is only one thing that can save us from being crushed by our values. We need an ultimate value that removes the sting from our moral failures and inspires us to keep moving forward despite our frailty. Love towards others and ourselves, even as we all climb that liminal space between moral ideal and human frailty, is what makes life tolerable and worth living. Love for others inspires us to keep pursuing the higher good, and it encourages mercy for ourselves when we fail.

More than a feeling, compassion is an action, a practice. I often don’t feel much love for myself, in the same way a ragged and exhausted parent might not always “feel” love for his sobbing child. I might have feelings of self-hatred and just want all the pain to stop, but choosing not to hurt myself is an act of self-compassion, even when I don’t feel it. In the same way courage can feel identical to fear, compassion can feel identical to self-loathing. It is how we act in the face of such fear and self-loathing that counts.

A man’s compassion is what meets him when he fails — when I pick up a razor blade and end up hurting myself. Compassion is the mother and father within each of us who hears the pain, sees the frailty, and loves anyway. To me, this means giving space to my imperfections, fears, loneliness, and insecurities. Compassion is the simple act of saying, without judgment, “I hear you.”

Love is the North Star of every good man. “These three remain,” writes Saint Paul, “faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.” Apply the same the same rubric here. The greatest of all these rules is love.

But that’s just me. What do you think? Let me know in the comments section, and if your comment is excellent, I might feature it in an upcoming post.

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