Young Men in Crisis
At Stanford, women now outnumber men by 7% among undergraduates. This seemingly small difference belies a significant shift in campus demographics and academic achievement from 50 years ago, when the ratio of students (as well as applicants) was 67% men to 33% women. While the gender parity achieved in recent decades was a positive trend, we've now swung well past equilibrium. Given this change, it's time to confront a broader, underlying trend: Young men across the United States are falling behind, and the fallout is extreme.
The statistics paint a stark picture: With its class of 2028, Harvard has maintained a female majority for a seventh year. An astonishing seven out of ten high school valedictorians are girls. In the next five years, for every man who graduates college, we can expect two female graduates. This educational disparity isn't just an academic curiosity—it's a harbinger of profound social and economic shifts.
The implications here are profound. The lifetime income of a college graduate is twice that of a non-degree holder. Additionally, college graduates are half as likely to be unemployed as those who only have a high school diploma. As women are increasingly represented in higher education, they're undoubtedly positioning themselves for greater financial success and independence. But somewhere along the way, we forgot about the men we left behind.
The classroom is only one place in which this disparity can be observed. Young men today are three times more likely to overdose, four times more likely to commit suicide, and a staggering 14 times more likely to be incarcerated than their female peers. 98% of all mass shooters are male. Violence, addiction, and self-harm all represent a desperate cry for help from a generation of struggling young men.
The root causes of this crisis are deeply ingrained within our societal structures. First and foremost, the rise of single-parent households has disproportionately impacted young men. The United States’ proliferation of single-parent families, up from 9% in 1960 to 37% today, and absentee fathers have no doubt played an increasingly important role in the inferior outcomes of many young males.
While girls tend to show similar outcomes whether they are raised in single or dual-parent homes, boys suffer significantly in the absence of a father figure. For example, men who grow up with their biological fathers are about two and a half times more likely to graduate college, even after controlling for race, income, age, and maternal education. They are also almost twice as likely to be employed or in school by their mid-twenties, and about half as likely to be incarcerated.
While these broader societal issues are undoubtedly crucial, the education system serves as both a reflection of these problems and a potential catalyst for change. After all, education is the primary conduit of social mobility.
From the very start, our early education system may be inadvertently stacking the deck against boys. For example, over 75% of all primary and secondary school teachers are women. These teachers, through no fault of their own, will naturally relate more easily to and connect with young girls.
Anti-male bias manifests in subtle ways in the classroom, from the choice of reading materials to disciplinary practices. Studies show that boys are now twice as likely to be suspended for the same infractions as girls, pointing to a troubling double standard in how we perceive and manage male behavior in educational settings.
Furthermore, we must consider the biological realities of disparate cognitive development. On average, boys mature more slowly than girls, lagging behind by approximately two years in certain cognitive skills, such as impulse control. This means that an 18-year-old male applying to college is often on par developmentally with a 16 or 17-year-old female. Our one-size-fits-all educational timelines give no credence to this discrepancy, potentially setting many young men up for constant academic discouragement and failure at critical junctures in their academic careers.
The cultural zeitgeist here must also be examined: In our efforts to empower young women over the past few decades, we have neglected the unique challenges facing boys. When was the last time you heard of a male-specific academic program? It’s not for lack of necessity either—more than 45,000 fewer boys than girls graduate high school each year. The scarcity of positive male role models at home and school breeds alienation among young men.
Stanford boasts fourteen women-only academic and pre-professional organizations, receiving university funding in the six-figures. In contrast, not a single male-only equivalent exists, even in fields where men are underrepresented. Despite men's dwindling numbers in medical and law schools nationwide, major universities offer virtually no male-specific support, unlike the robust initiatives for women.
The impact on relationships and family formation is equally concerning. As women increasingly out-earn and out-educate their male counterparts, their hypergamous mating patterns are being upended. Women tend to seek partners of equal or higher socioeconomic status, while men are more flexible in this regard. Women’s preference inevitably results in a growing pool of educated, successful women struggling to find compatible partners and a subset of less-educated men facing diminished romantic prospects. While this is good for Stanford’s men, it certainly doesn't bode well for the rest of the country.
This mismatch between men and women’s educational status is already reflected in falling marriage rates. The share of adults aged 25 to 54 who are married has fallen from 67% in 1990 to just 53% in 2019. Meanwhile, the proportion of those who have never married has nearly doubled, from 17% to 33%.
It's the worst amongst Gen Z, the generation that has grown up most steeped in the belief that masculinity is toxic. Gen Z men are dating at roughly half the rate of their Gen X counterparts during adolescence. This diminished interest in romantic relationships is mirrored in declining birth rates. While Gen Z initially maintained birth rates near or above replacement level, the American birth rate has plummeted to 1.66 in the last 15 years, well below the replacement rate. This trend, if it continues, signals a future of increased isolation, declining birth rates, and economic instability.
The challenges facing this generation of young men are deeply rooted and demand our attention. It's beyond time for an emphasis on male-specific educational reform, about how we can support and empower young men without diminishing the hard-won gains of women.