Toxic Mask-Ulinity

Graphic by Grace Lougheed

American culture has framed the coronavirus as an every-man-for-himself battle in which there are champions and losers and triumphs and defeats. In the U.S., the COVID-19 pandemic has not been tackled by the collective, but rather, has foolishly been handled through individualist means where matters were made personal. 

In the midst of rapidly rising coronavirus case counts and hospitalizations, health experts and medical professionals have continuously stressed the importance of wearing masks. Despite this, a small but incredibly loud segment of the male population has decided to ignore these recommendations because, well, they believe that masks interfere with their self-interests. 

Masks are a piece of fabric that you wear on your face. We wear them to protect ourselves and others. They are lifeless, cheap and pretty damn ordinary. So why have these insignificant pieces of cloth become politicized and associated with gender stereotypes? 

A survey of US citizens found that men are less likely to don face masks and report feeling higher levels of shame and stigma than women when wearing them. Men were also more likely than women to agree with statements that referred to mask-wearing as “shameful,” “a sign of weakness” or “uncool.” Interestingly, another study published by Cambridge University Press showed that the more old-fashioned a man is in his beliefs about men and women, the less likely he is to wear a mask, wash his hands and adhere to social distancing orders. 

Former President Donald Trump, the poster child for this type of outdated masculinity, has publicly mocked mask wearers and waited for 135,000 Americans to die before putting on a mask himself. When Trump rejected masks, his followers imitated in a desperate attempt to remain loyal to their president. In August, Trump supporter Robert O’Neill was removed from a Delta flight after tweeting a photo of his unmasked face with the caption “I’m not a p****.”

In men’s refusal to wear masks, we see reflections of the widespread condom rejection embedded in white masculine ideology. As Emily Willingham points out in her article “The Condoms of the Face: Why Some Men Refuse to Wear Masks,” whether it’s a mask or a condom, resistance to these barrier methods of protection presents a clear threat to public health in which men are willfully endangering the people around them.

Over the past few weeks, I spoke to several men and women studying at Northwestern and discussed their experiences of living in Evanston during the pandemic. I got an insight into their observations of how the behaviors of men and women have differed during this period and how they have navigated difficult and uncomfortable social situations. Please note that I am sharing the stories of only a few students and it is important to emphasize that their experiences do not necessarily reflect the Northwestern community at large. Per request, all stories have had the names of those involved changed to remain anonymous.

Sarah gets tested frequently, actively avoids eating inside at restaurants and makes the health of others a priority. “It’s hard because I think we need to prioritize the health of others as well as our own mental wellbeing which can be a difficult balance to strike given the current climate.” 

From Sarah’s experiences, she explains that guys seem to be, on the whole, “more lax” than girls. They “see more people, wear masks less and also judge others for caring about corona,” she says. Northwestern boys, according to Sarah, are heavily influenced by each other and have a strong urge to seem “cool” or “macho” to avoid social alienation. 

This behavior has personally impacted Sarah and her safety comfort levels. Whether it's her male friends or someone she is hooking up with, Sarah explains that guys have “invalidated [her] concerns and safety precautions.” When asking boys to be safer, she’s often met with short responses such as “come on, it’s fine,” “I obviously don’t have it” or “you’re overreacting.” 

Izzy has created a bubble of friends that she sees on a regular basis which she says helps keep her sane. “I acknowledge it’s tough to always do the right thing in this situation and everyone slips up from time to time,” she says. That being said, she then shared how she had witnessed huge differences in how men and women at Northwestern had acted this Fall Quarter. 

“The college boys I know think they are invincible,” joked Izzy, before saying more seriously, “Do you not think about the people you may come into contact with while gallivanting around a major U.S. city during a pandemic?” 

Izzy revealed that she felt like some NU students were abusing their privilege at the expense of others. “A lot of the guys being unsafe are white and have good access to healthcare — they have no consideration for minorities in risk groups or healthcare workers.” She went on to compare the behavior of certain boys with the behavior of her bubble of girlfriends, “We’re more aware, we hold each other accountable and remind ourselves that we aren’t the only ones living in Evanston.” 

The pillars of masculine ideology have historically included dominance, toughness and competitiveness. Within this ideology, men want to display strength over weakness, control over helplessness and courage over fear. For some, the act of wearing a mask and engaging in social distancing and the desire to exert masculine characteristics don’t go hand in hand; engaging in one calls into question the validity of the other. Consequently, in some groups, the mask-is-weakness mentality is championed whilst public health guidelines are overlooked.

Michael, a sophomore at Northwestern, felt that some of his friends’ behavior during the pandemic had been careless. He recalled a time in mid-October where he had plans to hang out with a male friend of his but had just heard of a recent corona outbreak that felt too close for comfort. Michael explained to me how he had texted his friend with the aim of getting more information on his whereabouts the past week. He asked him where and who he had been with in order to get reassurance that his friend wasn’t caught in the outbreak. In response, he got a line of defensive text messages in which Michael was told he was being paranoid and to “just come over.”

Alex, a junior at Northwestern, expressed that he was “following more strict protocol than [he] would normally like to,” and that he doesn’t get tested frequently because he lives with students who are tested multiple times a week so doesn’t “feel the need.” 

“People our age are overly worried about the pandemic,” Alex says. “We’re young, we’re healthy and we’re in college.” He went on to argue that since we aren’t at risk, we shouldn’t have to restrict ourselves as much as those who are vulnerable. “When it comes down to it, I think I am handling the pandemic well,” Alex says. “The guys who I live with are okay with my behavior and in the end, that’s all that really matters to me.”

With toxic masculinity comes a reluctance to be emotional, and inevitably, this rears its head in a distressing and traumatic event like a pandemic. Acknowledging the seriousness of the virus means to some extent acknowledging the emotions and well-being of others. By hyper-masculine standards, this is regarded as a flaw; however, in reality, the decision to wear a mask, limit social interactions or get tested frequently isn’t a decision grounded in emotion, but should be labeled as a rational decision rooted in science and backed up by public health officials. 

“Some of the guys I know have made my girlfriends and I feel crazy and lame for caring about COVID-19,” Izzy explains. Sadly, this is not an isolated experience. On a Wednesday morning perched on an outdoor bench, Cleo, a sophomore, explained to me that she had experienced gaslighting on several occasions when it came to her coronavirus concerns.

“At Northwestern, while all of my girlfriends and some guys I know have strictly followed the testing protocols and avoided large gatherings, several of my male friends have either lied about getting tested or avoided it with stupid excuses,” she says. “They act as if I’m ridiculous for asking them to match my safety levels before seeing me.” 

In the end, Cleo sighed and regretfully explained that she’s usually the one who ends up having to compromise. Sarah had also explained that on some occasions when she had asked if boys had been or planned to get tested they either dismissed it as unnecessary because they had been seeing her and her negative result also applied to them, or they lied and said they would get tested but never did. 

Masculinity is a status that many men constantly feel like they have to prove and protect, and despite what you may think, this obligation doesn’t stop for anything — not even a pandemic. Research done by Joseph A. Vandello at the University of South Florida shows that men experience anxiety when it comes to their manhood and masculine gender identity. This is due to society’s difficult-to-attain and easy-to-lose label of what makes a man “manly.” Vandello explained that when masculinity is compromised, men compensate by acting out in risky ways.

“Boys are definitely influenced by each other,” expressed Cleo, and although she explained that while individually many of her guy friends are understanding and well-educated on the realities of COVID-19, as a group they assume a mentality that makes those who are being safe seem “weak” or “scared” rather than “rational and responsible.” 

Izzy also pointed out that at Northwestern, we experience a different kind of pressure from other big colleges that are partying and being incredibly unsafe. “Seeing schools like Michigan and Wisconsin throw parties all the time makes students at Northwestern feel insecure about their college experiences,” she remarked. 

Although I only talked to a tiny segment of the Northwestern population and therefore cannot generalize my findings, from what I gathered I got a strong sense that a behavioral disparity between men and women exists at least in some capacity at the university. Students explained to me how the coronavirus had completely changed their lives. From online classes to increased anxiety, from no frat parties to friendship fallouts over unsafe behavior, the pandemic has altered most students’ day-to-day experiences. However, it seems that not everyone’s behaviors have shifted collectively as some men remain more invested in their masculinity than the wider community.