Where Are the Men?

From the Heart: Where Are the Men?

There’s something deeply wired into us as humans.

When danger shows up, we’re supposed to move toward it — not away.

You see it when a father steps between his child and a threat. You see it when a man instinctively puts himself in harm’s way to protect someone vulnerable.

It’s not taught. It’s primal. Protective. Necessary.

And yet, increasingly, it feels like we’re losing it.

A Country That Feels Safe… Until It Doesn’t

Australia is, by all measures, a safe country.

But that safety is starting to feel conditional.

This week I read about a foreign student in Victoria — for the third time in two years — pleading guilty to secretly filming women in change rooms, showers, and toilets. Three times. Same behaviour. Over 150 women. Same violation.

No conviction recorded. No deportation back home. Still allowed to pursue his dream of becoming a doctor and surgeon in Australia.

One of the reasons cited? A lack of family support in Australia.

I sat with that.

If there is no family influence… then where does the correction come from?

Because clearly, it’s not coming from the system.

When No One Steps In

At the same time, a 22-year-old man in Melbourne — whose family moved here from South Africa to escape violent crime — was killed after stepping in to protect a 14-year-old boy being robbed by four machete thugs at a train station.

He did what we all say someone should do.

And he paid for it with his life.

Closer to home, in what most would call our “safe” beachside community, a young boy riding his bike and fishing around the lake was confronted. Caught on film. Older kid. Tracksuit and Hoodie on a hot Queensland day. Face obscured.

Demanding his AirPods. His bag. His bike.

This isn’t a big city problem anymore.

This is everywhere.

The Bystander Generation

Scroll social media and you’ll see it daily.

Bad behaviour. Violence. Harassment.

And what do people do?

They film it.

They comment on it.

They wait for someone else — usually the police — to step in and fix it.

There’s this growing belief that safety is something outsourced. That a phone call replaces action. That authority lives somewhere “above us.”

But here’s the reality:

A phone won’t save you in the moment. And the police won’t materialise instantly.

When something goes wrong — it’s you, right there, in real time.

The Dangerous Absence of Consequences

Behaviour that goes unpunished doesn’t disappear.

It gets reinforced.

There's solid research on this; Operant conditioning - the psychology of consequences - shows exactly this; when bad actions face no real punishment, the brain doesn't learn to stop. It logs them as "viable". No deterrent means no restraint; repeat offenders stay repeat because nothing forces change. Add in inconsistent enforcement, and the behaviour doesn't just perisist - it escalates, like a broken window left unrepaired inviting more damage.

Repeat it enough times, and it becomes identity.

So when someone can plead guilty three times to violating over 150 women’s privacy — and still walk away without a conviction, free to pursue perhaps the most trusted career in our society, a doctor — what message is being sent?

Not just to him. But to everyone watching.

Standards don’t erode overnight.

They erode through tolerance.

So What Do We Do?

This isn’t about outrage.

It’s about responsibility.

Because if we keep handing over the role of “protector” to systems, laws, and institutions… we lose something fundamental.

Strong communities are not built by policies.

They are built by people — especially men — who are willing to hold a line.

Building Strength Starts Small

For me, this starts at home.

With my boys.

Not through lectures. Through example.

We pick up rubbish at the beach. We leave places better than we found them.

We help others, find ways to contribute to our community, and invite others to join.

It sounds simple — almost trivial.

But it’s not.

Broken Windows Theory (Wilson and Kelling, 1982) researched this extensively.

Visibile minor disorder (broken windows, graffiti, litter) left unaddressed signals "no one cares", encouraging more serious crime. The absence of quick, visible consequences for small violations reinforces escalation - petty stuff turns into bigger stuff cause nothing happens to deter it.

You must hard-wire a standard.

You must build an internal expectation of how the world should look — and your role in maintaining it.

When something feels off… you act. That is the intuitive blueprint you are creating.

“The Standard you Accept, is the Standard you Set.”

Training the Mind for Hard Moments

I deliberately seek discomfort.

Not for show, but for training.

Cold showers at 4:15am before dawn training. Running in the pounding rain.

Solo nights on bush trails.

By themselves they're pathetic First-World discomforts.

However these aren't intended as epic ordeals; they're controlled reps.

Nothing truly dangerous, yet they forge what counts.

Resilience. Self-Command. Calm when the world tilts.

The payoff? When chaos hits - real, unscripted, ugly - your mind doesn't freeze.

It falls back on muscle memory; step in, steady, hold.

You're mapping your brain: connecting, building and strengthening neural transmitters to hard-wire strong responses.

When It Actually Counts

I’ve had moments in my own solo ultra-endurance challenges where things went wrong.

Swimming the length of the coast while seasick. Getting lost in the dark during my slowest ever 100km ultra. Continuing to swim through the night after an 11pm close encounter with a shark.

These are self-imposed.

Controlled in comparison to real-world violence.

But the lesson is the same:

You don’t rise to the occasion. You fall to your level of preparation.

The Call That Matters

Let’s be clear.

Australia is still a safe country.

But safety isn’t something we inherit permanently.

It’s something we maintain.

And right now, there’s a gap forming.

A gap between what’s happening… and who is willing to step in.

Communities are crying out for strong men.

Not aggressive men. Not reckless men.

But grounded, capable, disciplined men who:

• Hold standards

• Step in when it matters

• Protect those who can’t protect themselves

• Lead by example — especially at home

It Starts With You

You don’t need a badge.

You don’t need permission.

You need to decide:

What do I stand for? What will I tolerate? And what will I step in to stop?

If you don't answer those questions yourself, someone else will, or worse, no one will.

If men don't claim that role, the void fills itself - with silence, or worse, with chaos.

And that’s when standards disappear.