How Fight Club Pioneered the Advocation for Men’s Mental Health

I’d like to preface this article by outlining a number of trigger warnings for the themes mentioned throughout: mental health, mental illness and suicide. If any of the themes mentioned are triggering to you personally as a reader, please click out. Phone a friend, read your favourite book, take yourself for a walk, drink an overpriced coffee…anything that you feel would brighten your day even a little. Additionally, please find links to mental health services and helplines in the UK below (both gender-universal and exclusively male services) and most importantly, please never struggle alone. Life really is worth living. 

Now, I know you may be reading this article wondering how Fincher’s 1999 adaptation of Palahniuk’s fever-dream novel, Fight Club, could possibly earn the title of an advocator for men’s mental health and, superficially, I would sympathise with the confusion. So, nearly 23 years on, how has Fight Club stood the test of time? Naturally, with the emergence of ‘Gen-Z’, comes the birth of new vocabulary and societal ideas that were not present back in the 90s - a prominent one being ‘toxic masculinity’. On the surface, Fight Club seemingly celebrates exactly that: the pacifying nature of violence, substance abuse, nihilism and the supposed emasculation that comes with discussing one's feelings — all of which seem to aid the appeal to young men and boys. However, when dissected, the sadistic nature of the film is a mere critique of this underworld and actually aims to highlight the detrimental results of neglected mental health as a result of hyper-masculinity.

Fight Club has come under scrutiny by many, but the glamorisation of the club is a satirical facade for the underlying taboo: at the heart of the male group sits an abundance of solitude. Fight Club’s duty is not really to serve the men with the physical gratification they seek. Instead, it reflects the common belief that admitting your feelings results in inevitable emasculation and, thus, the mental turmoil from avoiding doing so. This leads us to beg the question as to why men don’t - or feel they can’t - talk about their mental health. The simple answer is societal expectations. By no means am I disregarding individual and/or personal factors here, but it seems reasonable to acknowledge the social conditioning of boys and men to maintain their machismo (almost invariably) as the general root of the issue. We’ve all heard the saying “big girls don’t cry”, but for many males, it is perhaps better understood as ‘no male should ever cry’. We know that female stereotypes - the idea that they should look and behave a certain way, for example - can be mentally and physically damaging to them, so, it is important to understand that male stereotypes are equally as destructive. Here is an analogy that, perhaps, better explains the futility of this male conditioning:

Picture a dog. A dog’s natural instinct is to bark, albeit when sad, happy, frightened or protecting. As an owner, you would not train your dog to completely stop barking, as barking is an entirely inherent trait. So, if feeling emotion is an innate human feature, why would society condition men to suppress, hide and neglect these emotions?

It is this gender expectation that Fight Club aims to deconstruct and scrutinise. Tyler Durden’s nihilistic approach to life, with the belief that physical violence is the only true display of masculinity, may seem appealing to a young male initially, but his entire purpose is to demonise the manifestation of toxic masculinity. The characters’ canonical response to their compromised masculinity (stemmed from their suffering mental state) is violence and defiance, yet it is this attempt to maintain virility ceaselessly that damages their mental health further and simply creates a vicious cycle. They feel they must choose between their masculine pride and their genuine well-being. 

Despite the anarchy of “Project Mayhem” seeming quite impressive to some, the lawless craze against New York City is merely a reflection of the inner turmoil men (and women) face every day. I think it’s important to understand this film for what it really is: a visual embodiment of the fragility of masculinity and mental health and how the two form a turbulent relationship. At the beginning of the film, we find the Narrator floating between support groups, but most significantly at a testicular cancer group, whereby a rather distressed Meatloaf cries, ‘We’re still men!’. This line in particular struck a chord with me. Is society so warped that men feel emasculated by testicular cancer? Have gender expectations pushed men so far that they feel even a fatal illness is inferior to their machismo? This is the sad reality. Naturally, the film includes this darker satire for a sense of comedic relief, but, what Fincher is actually doing is highlighting how internal and external factors - family, profession, societal expectations, for example - all aid the decline of men’s mental health and, despite the jokes lightening the mood per se, the issue faced is an undeniably sinister one - reinforced by the statistics shown below. 

Three times as many men as women die by suicide.

Men aged 40-49 have the highest suicide rates in the UK.

Men report lower levels of life satisfaction than women according to the Government’s national wellbeing survey.

Men are less likely to access psychological therapies than women: only 36% of referrals to NHS talking therapies are for men.

In 2017, nearly 6000 suicides were recorded in Great Britain. Of these, 75% were men. Suicide is the largest cause of death for men under 50. 

Although it may not be strikingly obvious, Fight Club aims to paint a raw portrait of the disasters that can come from neglected mental health and, additionally, how the power of masculinity over them is a primal factor in this negligence. 

We follow the journey of the Narrator’s demise and, ultimately, are taught to combat the issues that could lead us towards the same mental decline. It is a sociological analysis that tackles, not only the paralysing powers of excess consumerism but the anxieties of male mental health and just how frightening it can manifest itself to be. It is clear from the film that addressing such issues was not easy or common in the 90s, but it manages to subvert this societal conditioning and raise the awareness men need. There has never been another film quite like Fight Club, and I believe it is the individuality of the film that allows for its title of the first real men’s mental health advocate. Life has undoubtedly progressed since the release of the film but, judging by the statistics, there is still a long way to go in terms of the acceptance of mental health in men. 

So, that just leaves me with how to help. Firstly, I’d start by genuinely encouraging you to watch Fight Club. It is most definitely not for the faint-hearted but, with an understanding of its’ deeper meaning, I think the journey into the Narrator’s struggling mind is hugely insightful and allows us to recognise the struggles men face and how they may face them. Secondly, I strongly suggest speaking to someone; speak to a friend, a family member, a work colleague or, perhaps best, a professional. The idea of opening up is a vulnerability that many of us hate the idea of, but simply voicing a feeling is already halving the problem. A problem shared is a problem halved. If you take anything at all away from this article, please let it be to get the help you need…you will never regret prioritising your mental health. 

Finally, please check up on your loved ones. One simple text or conversation could genuinely be the difference between life or death. Knowing someone is thinking of you and your wellbeing helps more than you can imagine. 

 https://www.samaritans.org/

Call 116 123 - Samaritans

Text "SHOUT" to 85258 to contact the Shout Crisis Text Line, or text "YM" if you're under 19

Infoline: 0300 123 3393

Email: info@mind.org.uk Post: Mind Infoline, PO Box 75225, London, E15 9FS

https://www.thecalmzone.net/