Do Young Men Have a Future?

As I prepared for this series, I had the opportunity to chat with a missiologist and cultural anthropologist who tracks trends among young men in the United States. While discussing the topic, he offered a poignant, half-serious remark: “Nothing’s worse than a society of young men who think they don’t have a future.” On the surface, one could easily list many things that are objectively worse. But I believe the profound truth he was pointing to is the unique and severe damage inflicted on a society when a generation of its young men feels, “There is nothing here for me.”

Throughout American history, pivotal crises have repeatedly left emerging adult men feeling that society had no space for them. Examining the Great Depression, the Vietnam War Era, and the 2008 financial crisis reveals a consistent pattern: a fundamental societal promise was broken, preventing these men from fulfilling the masculine roles of their time. During the Great Depression, the core masculine identity was the breadwinner. Mass unemployment destroyed this role. Men who could not work felt they had no legitimate place in their families or communities, often facing shame and a loss of respect. For them, "no future" specifically meant no future as a man, rendering them physically present but socially invisible and displaced. The post-World War II era promised a different "space" for a young man: to get an education, build a career, and become a pillar of the suburban community. The Vietnam draft shattered this promise, making young men feel like disposable assets rather than citizens. Their designated "space" was not in their own community but in a jungle grave, or they returned home as traumatized outcasts. This betrayal directly fueled the counterculture movement, as young men created their own spaces in communes and on university campuses, rejecting a society that conscripted them as cogs in a war machine. In the early 21st century, the 2008 financial crisis stripped away the modern "space" promised to educated young men: a career-track job, independent living, and homeownership. The reality was moving back in with parents, working unpaid internships or gig-economy jobs, and delaying marriage and family. This forced them into a state of prolonged adolescence. The traditional "spaces" of adulthood, the office, the suburban home, were financially out of reach. They were physically in their childhood bedrooms, but socially, they occupied a liminal space, no longer children but unable to become full, independent adults as defined by the previous generation.

In the last five years, a new challenge has emerged for young adult men, centered on their perceived value, identity, and place in politics. Over the past 12-15 years, U.S. politics, particularly on the left, has rightly focused on advancing women’s equality, leading to many historic "firsts" for women in leadership. However, a consequence of this necessary progress is that many men now feel politically sidelined and forgotten, arguing that the political climate has shifted from supporting both genders to overlooking their interests. The recent Harris-Walz campaign serves as a prime example of this communication gap. Its platform did include substantive economic proposals aimed at broad financial relief, such as capping prescription drug costs, providing up to $25,000 in tax credits for first-time homebuyers, eliminating taxes on tips, and creating a $6,000 child tax credit. On immigration, the campaign proposed a balanced approach of strong border security, including funding more border agents and closing the border if overwhelmed, coupled with an earned pathway to citizenship. However, these policies were overshadowed by the campaign's leading messages, which foregrounded national women's reproductive rights, LGBT+ rights, stricter gun control, and climate change. The resulting perception among many young men was that the campaign did not speak to them or their specific struggles. This feeling of political exclusion and a perceived devaluation of their place in society has led a significant number to believe their only recourse is to vote against this agenda. While it is too soon for a definitive analysis, historical patterns and current rhetoric indicate a critical shift. This demographic, feeling politically homeless, is actively seeking community and belonging. They are now "flooding" into spaces like our churches. We must be aware of this trend and proactively engage with these young men to address their search for identity and purpose.

Here are some tools to help us, as the church, begin engaging with this topic in a trauma-informed, data-driven way. First, we must shift from a posture of judgment to one of compassionate listening. Data from the American Psychological Association shows that feelings of isolation and a lack of social belonging are significant predictors of poor mental health. When a young man shares his frustration about feeling politically or socially sidelined, our first response shouldn't be to debate his politics, but to validate his emotional experience. This mirrors Christ’s approach with the outcast and discouraged. We can create “Third Spaces,” not formal programs, but low-stakes environments like coffee hours or hiking groups, where the primary goal is fellowship, not instruction. In these spaces, we listen to learn, not to rebut.

Second, we must intentionally reframe the concept of masculinity through a theological lens. The world often defines a man by his career, political power, or economic utility, but Scripture offers a more resilient foundation. We can point to the creation account, where Adam’s primary calling was to cultivate and keep the garden (Genesis 2:15), a role of stewardship and service, not domination. We can highlight Jesus, the ultimate man, whose strength was expressed through compassion, sacrifice, and servant leadership, telling his disciples, “whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant” (Matthew 20:26). This directly counters the narrative that a man’s value is tied to his financial portfolio or social dominance. By teaching that a man’s core identity is as an image-bearer of God and a servant in His kingdom, we provide an anchor that economic or political shifts cannot shake.

Finally, we must move beyond talk to tangible discipleship. This means creating clear, accessible pathways for young men to contribute their skills and energy to the body of Christ. Feeling needed is a powerful antidote to feeling hopeless. Invite them to mentor younger boys, serve on a facilities team, or use their tech skills for the media ministry. When a young man sees that the church has a tangible, meaningful “space” for him to fill, he begins to believe that God has a future for him. This practical integration is where theology becomes reality, transforming a sense of displacement into divine purpose.