Panic and Purposeful Masculinity

My latest anxiety attack-and its lessons. From Loser to For All Leader. How older white guys can adapt to a changing workplace.

Here’s me in the emergency room earlier this month. I thought I was having another heart attack. But tests showed my heart was fine. It seems I had another panic attack.

I’m emerging from the experience grateful. And pissed. Angry at the crappy, confined, Trumpy masculinity that is causing me and many others anxiety these days. And determined to offer a healthier alternative.

This edition of FrauenTimes is about moving from feeling overwhelmed to finding purpose in elevating a better way for men to love, lead and live.

First is a reflection on my recent panic attack and its lessons. (6 min. read)

Second is an excerpt from my forthcoming book about how “loser” guys can be leaders we need today. (9 min. read)

Third is a video about three keys for older white men like me to adapt to a changing workplace. Teaser: when we relax our egos and redefine success to be about service, we can thrive as never before. (4 min. video)

***

Anxiety, Anger and an Abundance-based Manhood

Can’t we evolve from a stress-inducing society and a fearful, cramped masculinity?

A wave of exhaustion flooded my body.

I felt a flutter in my chest, then light-headed, dissociated.

I was saying good-bye to my generous hosts, Brian and his wife Cathy, and about to drive from their home in northern Vermont to see friends in Massachusetts.

The sudden feeling of faintness was scary. But not totally foreign. I’d been having similar episodes with growing frequency in the previous weeks.

What I was experiencing can signal a heart attack, but I chalked up these episodes to panic. It’s true I had a mild heart attack in 2021. But afterwards, I’ve had weeks-long stretches where I felt rapid-onset fatigue and chest pains that proved non-life threatening. I went to the emergency room on two occasions in the wake of the heart attack, and doctors discovered no trauma to my heart. Panic was the diagnosis.

So I’d been working to ignore unpleasant sensations like what I felt when I left Brian and Cathy the morning of Feb. 7.

But the tiredness and a tightness in my chest lingered. Unlike other incidents where the sensations dissipated in 20 minutes or less, I still felt weak and overall “off” about an hour later.

And I didn’t want to be a hypocrite when it came to the “Tough Guy Show.” That is, I didn’t want to go along with the societal pressures on men, especially, to pretend everything is Ok. That we’re invincible. That we never need help. Just two days earlier I’d given a talk at a National Ski Areas Association conference about the damaging effects of the Tough Guy Show on individuals, teams and organizations.

So in the parking lot of a coffee shop in northern Vermont, I sought help. I called 911.

***

Paramedics took me to the University of Vermont Medical Center in Burlington. There an echocardiogram, blood tests and an ultrasound exam found no problems with my heart.

Once again, anxiety seemed to trigger my distress.

I can’t be 100 percent sure panic alone has been ailing me. Back in San Francisco, my doctor explained to me that the cause of my 2021 heart attack—a coronary artery spasm—can’t always be detected through echocardiagrams and blood tests.

So I might be having minor, temporary cases of a heart valve clenching and setting off chest sensations and sudden sleepiness.

My doctor, though, said it is more likely that my heart is working fine and that my mind is generating these physical symptoms.

I hear him. Over the course of my life, I’ve weathered a number of anxiety attacks where my head persuaded me my body was in trouble—when it wasn’t.

These include a spell as a young boy when I hyperventilated, convinced I couldn’t get enough oxygen. And a period just before my son was born when I was a certain I had become incontinent. I hadn’t.

The mind—at least mine—is that powerful.

My anxiety attacks have tended to come during periods of serious stress. Like the start of kindersgarten. Or the beginning of fatherhood. In recent years, I’ve worried about navigating Covid, about not earning enough money, about not succeeding as a solo entrepreneur. In fact, these stresses likely caused my heart attack four years ago.

So even if my heart arteries are clenching up and causing my episodes of exhaustion these days, the root cause is still anxiety.

***

We tend to personalize the challenges we face in our American culture. It’s a hyper-masculine culture that privileges notions of the self-made man, of winning the game of life, of picking ourselves up by our bootstraps. We place much less value on mutual aid, on recognizing our interconnectedness, on advancing together.

I’ve bought into that imbalanced ethos for much of my life. I still struggle to avoid defining myself as a “weak” man for feeling bouts of profound fear. For suffering panic attacks.

But that American individualism is too simple. It’s not just about me—or about any individual who may experience anxiety. It’s about the context too. It’s about a society that is based on scarcity and competing for scraps. One that funnels most of the financial rewards and resources to a few at the top. One with a social safety net so skimpy that losing a job forces most people to confront existential fears of not meeting basic needs like feeding yourself and keeping a roof over your head.

Americans’ levels of anxiety have been rising in recent years, with 77 percent of adults anxious about the economy in 2024.

The return of Donald Trump has made our stressful system worse. Much worse, in the course of just a few weeks. Not only is he attacking safety net programs like Medicaid, but he’s assailing democracy and the very notion of a pluralistic society.

He’s acting as a strong-man autocrat akin to Putin and Xi, embodying an extreme and extremely dangerous version of masculinity. One where might makes right, scapegoating is strategy, and our collective, global challenges such as climate change and possible pandemics are ignored in favor of maximizing power in the short term.

***

I’m angry at Donald Trump for all this. And not just angry. I also feel guilt and a sense of failure. After all, I’ve been arguing against Trumpy, MAGA masculinity for years now. Despite my best efforts, he won re-election.

I know it is silly to blame myself for Trump’s return. There’s that American romanticization of the power of the individual.

I also know, intellectually, that the best path forward is to stay calm in this moment. To avoid fighting fire with fire.

But it’s hard. A bruising, bullying masculinity is attacking us in our nerve center. Quite intentionally. One of Trump’s allies admitted he wanted to put federal employees “in trauma.”

The Trump campaigns against diversity, equity and inclusion efforts and marginal populations has heightened fears among our most vulnerable neighbors. But his return also seems to be contributing to a climate of anxiety even among straight white men like me.

***

I saw anecdotal evidence of this in a group of men in the ski industry that I co-facilitate each month. The group, dubbed “The Total Guy Group” supports men trying to move past the “Tough Guy Show”—to be tough when needed but tender as well.

During our February Zoom gathering, three out of nine of us said we’d experienced a panic attack in recent weeks. One man was tempted to turn back to alcohol to quell his anxiety. Thankfully, he didn’t. Another man regained a sense of calm by remembering a breathing technique his daughter had taught him.

“Smell the soup, cool the soup, Dad,” the daughter had said. In other words, breathe in through the nose, breathe out through the mouth.

I love the way my fellow “Total Guy” found inspiration and assistance from his daughter.

I, too, relied on the support of others to recover from my recent anxiety incident. During my stay in the UVM emergency room, I found myself gradually calming down. Feeling like myself again. It had much to do with the caring spirit of the staff treating me.

“Hello, my dear,” more than one nurse said as they greeted me. And they were cheerful as they brought me ginger ale, chocolate pudding and warm blankets.

In a word, the nurses and doctors made me feel safe.

***

This human touch, this compassion helped me move out of what my friend and author Due Quach (pronounced Zway Kwok) calls “Brain 1.0”—a fearful state of mind. I also passed through “Brain 2.0”—when the dopamine system has us craving instant gratification, like immediate confirmation that my heart was Ok.

In the course of resting and reflecting in my hospital bed, I think I even experienced “Brain 3.0.” That’s the integrated mind, when we use our brain’s prefrontal cortex to tap our "inner sage" and can be open, curious, connected and creative.

I found myself feeling for the struggling patients in the ER unit next to mine.

I found myself planning to deepen my commitment to meditation, to reduce stress in my life, especially through a more spacious schedule.

I found myself thinking about how to strengthen my belief in abundance over scarcity. Thinking about how I can locate the source of my self-esteem in my soul. Not in the conventional ways we’re trained to measure ourselves as men—in our achievements, in our muscles, in our stoicism. But instead, in the divine spark that I believe is present in all human beings.

***

That divine spirit isn’t about anger, ultimately. It’s about love.

So since I emerged from that emergency room, I’ve tried to channel my anger into action that is caring at its core.

I’ve found renewed purpose as a man. And I’m lucky that my work speaks to this moment. A moment where a cramped manhood of domination is ascendant. But one that doesn’t truly serve men, who are genuinely struggling today, or anyone else.

What we need now is a liberating masculinity that frees men to feel and reveal their hurts, to heal their wounds, and to nco-create a future that works for everyone.

A future where sensitive, anxiety-prone guys like me avoid hospital visits.

A future where men and all people develop a higher consciousness—one that leads to healthy hearts, calm minds and contented souls.

From Loser to For All Leader

Book excerpt on how the smallest management career in history (mine) might be the beginning of a big trend.

I have what is probably the smallest management career in history.

I’ve managed one person, for one day, in my entire professional life. The day I was assigned to be this woman’s boss was the day she told me she was leaving for a new job elsewhere.

I don’t think she was fleeing me — we’d never even worked together! But this paltry history of leadership is telling nonetheless.

I’m 57 years old — in my prime, a time I’m supposed to be close to the apex of my field. But the highest position I’ve ever risen to was “senior director” of content. I’ve never earned the title of vice president, the rank many guys define as the career mark to hit or exceed. At the half-dozen companies I’ve worked for, I never made it up to “the room where it happens.”

Nor have I achieved other measures of success in my chosen field — writing. No Pulitzer prizes on my resume. No New York Times bestsellers. And with a few exceptions, I haven’t cracked the A-list of major publications with my shorter-form articles.

These shortcomings are especially glaring given my privileges in life. I grew up as a straight, white, able-bodied, middle class man in America. I went to great public schools outside of Buffalo, New York. I got into and graduated from Princeton University, then earned a master’s degree from UC Berkeley.

In light of my advantages — especially my elite education — you might think I should have risen higher up the corporate ladder by now.

In fact, right around my 50th birthday, my Uncle Mike put a fine point on this lack of progress.

“You’re a promotion or two behind schedule, Ed,” he told me.

Thanks a lot, Uncle Mike. Ouch.

***

To be fair to Uncle Mike, he was genuinely trying to help me in that conversation. And he was only speaking the truth about how I was faring under the conventional rules of the career game.

The humiliation I felt in that moment had to do with those rules. And with the related rules of manhood. You are supposed to win as a guy. To dominate, really. To provide for your family, but beyond that, to conquer the work world.

True, in many ways I’d made good progress in my life. I earned a middle-class salary. I’d co-written a couple of books. I was happily married with two great kids. Part of why I hadn’t climbed higher in the corporate world is that I’d left a fast-lane journalism job for one that allowed me to be a more involved dad. I coached my kids’ soccer teams for eight straight years, for example.

Still, according to the conventional yardsticks for a man at work, I was a loser. At least I often felt that way. I feared I was someone who’d choked in the game of business. Blown my chances.

But there’s a different way to look at my life’s work. And how I’ve shown up as a man at work.

What have I been “losing,” after all? The rat race.

A work paradigm that causes a lot of stress and suffering. Where people have been steered to show up as less than fully human.

But, in large part because younger people, women and people of color are resisting the worst aspects of the work world, it is changing. The rat race is looking more and more human. And less and less like a race.

It turns out some of the values I have held dear, and some of the traits I have as a man, are starting to become valuable. I’m a sensitive guy. A “nice” guy. Someone drawn to collaboration as much or more than competition. Less alpha male than emo man. A communicator more than a commander. More interested in being an equal partner than a powerful boss.

Now, my wife, my kids and many of my colleagues will tell you I’m far from perfect.

But the soft skills I’ve long practiced are increasingly success skills. And more generally a reinvention of masculinity at work is needed. For men as individuals, for those around men, and for our organizations.

It seems that I may not have been behind schedule after all. I, and guys like me, may have been ahead of our time. And we may have something to offer all men seeking to contribute and succeed in the business world that’s unfolding.

***

Masculine success has historically been about pay, promotions and power. It’s gone hand-in-hand with exclusion. It’s been about climbing over others in the rat race and up an ever-narrower corporate ladder.

These are features of what my co-author Ed Adams and I call “confined masculinity” in our recent book, Reinventing Masculinity: The Liberating Power of Compassion and Connection. Confined Masculinity is our term for the conventional, traditional masculinity that tends to limit men to the roles of protector, provider and conqueror. This version of masculinity also generally shuns emotional expression, signs of vulnerability and any admission of depending on others.

But this confined masculine ethos in general, and its definition of success in particular, are outdated. They are unhealthy. And even dangerous — to individual men, to people around them, to our organizations and to our planet.

Our book explores these many levels. But let’s home in on men in organizations — on men’s success and their ability to foster inclusive, effective organizations in the work world that’s emerging.

What does that world look like?

It is faster, flatter, fairer and more fully human.

What do I mean by faster? Change and disruption, from all over the globe, is happening at a quicker pace.

That means that top-down chains of command are proving to be too slow in a quicker, more complex commercial arena.

Partly as a result, organizations are getting “flatter.” With fewer levels of management, and greater power given to individuals to sense and respond quickly to changes in customer demands.

Another reason businesses are getting flatter is that young people especially are demanding to have more of a say in their work lives. Having been educated in more participatory, group-learning settings, they expect a measure of control over their work.

Meanwhile, women, people of color and others who’ve been marginalized historicially have spoken up and demanded greater fairness and equality over the past decade or so. The #metoo, #blacklivesmatter and other movements have called on organizations and leaders — especially white men — to take a hard look in the mirror and acknowledge power and privilege.

The resulting diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) efforts have not been smooth. DEI has at time been tone deaf to the real challenges of most men. While men have most of the power, most men have little power. And many men have felt excluded or shamed by well-intentioned DEI programs.

As I write these words, DEI is in retreat. The election of Donald Trump in 2024 reflected the backlash to the equity movement. Still, it is hard to imagine the pendulum will swing all the way back to where it was—to exclusive old boys’ clubs. Greater fairness will likely be part of workplaces moving into the future.

So will greater recognition that employees are human beings who come with feelings that can’t be checked at the door. The Covid pandemic raised awareness of overall wellbeing and decreased stigma around mental health challenges—it was suddenly Ok to not be Ok. We now expect organizations and leaders to be sensitive to emotional lives of employees.

The faster, flatter, fairer more fully human world is changing the face of leadership. Emotional intelligence and self-awareness matter more than ever. So do skills for working across difference, with people of diverse backgrounds and identies. What’s more, the confined masculinity style of bosses giving directions will have to give way to providing overall direction.

Indeed, the best results today are coming not from heroic leaders but from effective teams. Work today is becoming a team sport. The most innovative discoveries and most nimble operations require breaking down silos in organizations and bringing together people with diverse perspectives and talents.

This means collaboration and persuasion are more productive than solo displays of dominance.

The key to successful teams at one of the most successful companies in the twenty-first century — Google — turns out to be “psychological safety.” Caring, rather than scaring, produces the best results today.

More and more leading organizations today are seeking vulnerability, empathy, and listening skills in leaders and front-line employees alike.

***

The new approach to success at work is captured by the concept of the “For All” leader. My colleagues and I at research and advisory firm Great Place to Work came up with this term in the course of studying 10,000 managers and 75,000 employees. We discovered that the most effective, inclusive leaders — whom we dubbed “For All Leaders” — had traits such as humility, the ability to build bonds of trust with and among team members, and a focus on a bigger purpose rather than immediate results.

This is a far cry from the kind of combativeness, bravado, and stoicism that confined masculinity calls for. Confined men are often stiff, cold, and isolated in a work world now calling for flexibility, warmth, and connection.

More and more, men trying to follow the rules of confined masculinity in the emerging workplace are finding they don’t fit in.

Many are limping along. Some are being let go.

***

We all know some of the cautionary tales from the #metoo era and the racial justice uprising in recent years. Bill O’Reilly of Fox News. Travis Kalanick of Uber. Iowa Congressman Steve King.

There are concerns that this has gone too far, into a “cancel culture” that limits speech and imperils men, especially straight white men.

In any event, the rules have changed. And the change is asking more of men in particular.

It’s not enough for men to simply turn on the charm and pretend to be compassionate and connected. Performative caring that’s a tool for personal promotion won’t cut it. Selfish smarm will be sniffed out.

Instead, today’s call is about revisiting deep assumptions about success. Can our definition of achievement widen to include not just winning and individual accomplishment, but progress and purpose? Can it shift from a fundamentally exclusive version of success — where we triumph only by besting others — to an inclusive success? Where we advance at the same time that we lift up others?

I think we can redefine success along these lines. And there are more and more stories of men and their organizations thriving by breaking out of a confined masculinity and an ego-driven, exclusive version of success.

You see this in the business world. Our book tells the story of my friend Travis Marsh, who evolved from a self-absorbed, dictatorial management approach (he admits to having been a “world-class asshole”) to a more collaborative, self-aware leadership style — and saw better results on his team.

Even the Business Roundtable, a bastion of capitalism led mostly by men, has acknowledged that all stakeholders — not just shareholders — matter.

You also see shifting definitions of success and masculinity in the sports world.

Consider Steph Curry, one of today’s basketball stars, and a centerpiece of the three championships won in recent years by the Golden State Warriors. Curry put his pride aside when the team acquired Kevin Durant — another superstar that enabled the team to win consecutive championships.

“If you win MVP or I win MVP, it doesn’t matter,” Curry told Durant in a text. “We’re trying to win championships. And if you do win, I’ll be in the front row clapping for you at the press conference.”

Superstars and teams of old were more driven by chips on shoulders, by ego and anger. Michael Jordon wore a scowl just like the one on the Chicago Bulls logo. But more and more, the leading teams of today are about smiles and laughter. They are about the giddy shoulder shimmies of Steph Curry.

In fact, the pleasure of connection, of an inclusive spirit, goes hand in hand with positive results in sports today. The liberation, the release of playing loose with close-knit teammates, leads to success. As one sports writer said about the Warriors: “Joy is a weapon, an essential aspect of winning. Their fun is your demise.”

***

As for me?

I’m still plagued at times by doubts about my progress. Even though I left traditional employment for the life of an independent professional in January, I still wonder if I shouldn’t have “toughed it out” to rise higher in the ranks.

But for the most part I’m more satisfied than ever. I’ve redefined success. I’m not trying to win the rat race. I’m seeing myself on collective missions with like-minded colleagues, including the Teal Team I co-founded to advocate for more conscious, soulful organizations. My source of self-worth is shifting from passing others on the career ladder to service and purpose — to leaving behind a better world.

You might say I’m about inclusive success.

I was honored, for example, when Uncle Mike asked me to help some colleagues with a book a few years ago. He — and they — recognized my skills. And it was deeply satisfying to give them some useful guidance.

It was a kind of leadership. An informal, unspoken kind.

I’ve also heard words spoken about leadership and me. I heard them from a younger woman I’ve worked closely with on several research reports, and whom I helped with her TED Talk. She surprised me by calling me a For All leader in a public talk last year.

She made my career with that comment.

It turns out you don’t need to manage people to be a leader. You don’t need to climb the ladder to experience success. The smallest management career in history, in other words, might be the beginning of a big trend.

It could be part of the reinvention of masculinity at work. Where the competitive rat race is replaced by collaborative, compelling missions. Where we redefine success itself in a wider, inclusive way.

Where all our voices count. Even the words of a guy who once defined himself as a loser.

3 Keys for Older White Men to Adapt to a Changing Workplace

Today's workplace is changing in ways that can be bewildering to men like me. We white men in our fifties, sixties, and seventies came of age in workplaces where people didn't declare their pronouns, where work, personal life, and politics were very separate spheres, where the boss knew best, where there was little attention to questions of privilege and equity.

I happen to think that today's flatter, fairness-focused workplace is an improvement over older cultures. Whether or not you agree with me, it is clear the workplace has evolved and will continue to do so. This poses challenges to older white men like us to find our place. The good news is we can. In the emerging workplace, everyone can belong, and there's a real opportunity for guys like us to thrive in ways scarcely possible in decades past. Check out this video for three keys for older white men to find their place in today's evolving workplace.

CLICK HERE FOR THE VIDEO (4 min.)

(Each edition of FrauenTimes includes a video with advice designed to support men at work—as part of workplaces that work for all.

Today’s video comes from AthenaOnline, a great resource for elevating leadership skills and improving workplace culture. Note that this video link becomes obsolete after 14 days (March 11, 2025). After that, you’ll need an AthenaOnline subscription to access it.)

Thanks for reading FrauenTimes! See you again soon!