Aaron Rodgers and the Ascent of the Bro Scientist
What the three-time NFL quarterback’s COVID debacle reveals about the relationship between men and science
The Mandate Letter, by Jason Rogers, focuses on the evolving state of men and masculinities. Thanks for being here. If you were forwarded this email, get your own:
Hello friends! Sorry for the long delay. I’ve been working on a long read for Men’s Health about a retreat I recently attended. Very excited to share that with you when it comes out after the first of the year!
Aaron Rodgers and the Ascent of Bro Science
If you aren’t familiar with Aaron Rodgers, suffice it to say that, in the NFL, he’s big deal. The Super Bowling-winning, 3-time MVP quarterback is also a well-known media darling, having appeared in TV ads for Pizza Hut and State Farm. However, he recently put his career in limbo and caused a cultural firestorm after making false claims that he was vaccinated. After only undergoing homeopathic treatments, he told interviews he was “immunized,” and then contracted COVID requiring him to sit out of an important game. The NFL does not have a vaccine mandate for all players; however, Rodgers violated protocol by participating in many team-sponsored activities, including media interviews, unmasked.
More interesting than the event itself, however, has been Rodgers’s reaction. He’s been quoted as saying that the “woke mob” is out to get him and had cited a variety of dubious or outright debunked information in podcast interviews (e.g., ivermectin, hydroxychloroquine, and concerns about vaccines and male fertility, to name a few). It’s clear that Rodgers has been doing his own research, a phrase that is often paired with conspiratorial claims. Where he gets his information is both hard and easy to say. The conservative podcast-sphere has vehemently pushed these theories despite the fact that some hosts have recanted their views after deadly confrontations with the virus. Plus the internet is just one big terrible black hole from which you can scoop all kinds of muck that already confirms your pre-existing view.
However, the Rodgers event represents is an exacerbation of a long-standing trend — bro science. Let me explain. Well, actually I’ll let the satirical 2.45m-subscriber-strong Youtube channel BroScienceLife explain. In the account’s first video, the tank-top sporting, Jersey-Shore-accented host says: “Bro Science. What is it? I’m glad I asked...That’s lifting advice from an unqualified bro who looks like he works out.”
While this definition is chuckle-inducing, it’s also not complete (I’ll come back to that). But If you have ever spent any time in a men’s fitness locker room, you will already have in your mind a vivid picture of this scene: hyper-muscular men (or those aspiring to that end) standing around in towels excitedly exchanging words like “androgenic,” “hypertrophy,” and “phosphocreatine.” While slugging down nutrition shakes, they move speedily from one complicated scientific topic to another with the uninhibited confidence of a spider monkey leaping from tree to tree.
Before being a “bio-hacker” was a thing, bodybuilders and fitness influencers have long performed the role of amateur scientists in search of knowledge that might lead to more “gains.” The problem is that, well, they aren’t scientists (at least 99.9% of them), and the bro-approach to anything tends to be cursory and self-serving — meaning that the nuance, orientation to disprove, and general skepticism toward anything anecdotal that makes science “science” has a tendency to get lost. But that doesn’t stop bro scientists from enthusiastically appropriating their interpretations of said “science” to sell supplements, consultations, and online courses.
That’s not to say there aren’t a few voices of reason. Layne Norton is a natural pro-body builder with a PhD in nutrition that makes Youtube videos challenging some of the claims of the aforementioned amateurs. In one vid called “YOU ARE FULL OF (TOXIC) SH*T!” he pulls apart the assertions made in an ad for a colon cleansing supplement in which a beardy bro says that, without his supplement, your poop can do you harm). He also regularly challenges the kind of garbled fitness and nutritional rants that are often are seen on Twitter and Reddit. It’s worth noting, however, Norton isn’t an altruist; he also sells memberships to his website Biolayne.com (“All the science, none of the B.S.” the website copy reads) and has nutritional coaching app. But, again, at least there’s a seemingly responsible adult at the wheel.
It would be inaccurate to say that misremembering, misciting, misappropriating, and straight-up manipulating scientific work is an activity exclusive to bros or specifically gym bros; however, it is most certainly their forte. The term “junk science” (a cousin to “bro science”) has been around since the mid-80s. In 2006, a professor at the University of Chicago wrote a book about how politicians, corporations, and “other hucksters” misuse research to suit rhetorical or ideological agendas. I think the difference now is that the recently internet-powered class believes that falling down a Youtube rabbit hole is “doing your own research” and expressing views that are algorithmically rewarded because they piss a lot of people off is “being a critical thinker.”
And here we are back to Aaron Rodgers. The star QB claimed to have “done his own research” and to be a “critical thinker” when making his defense. He also claimed to have consulted with “people in the medical field,” but it seemed that what he meant by that was calling up Joe Rogan for advice. Now, I realize that what I am doing right now might be called “dunking” or “keyboard warrior-ing” or whatever. I really do want to look upon the situation with as much empathy as possible. But it is hard really hard to sit back and watch highly influential people, such as Rodgers, throw around impoverished understandings of science that shore up the serious problem we have around vaccine hesitancy in the US and elsewhere in the world.
Also, what scares me about writing about this topic is that it makes me take a cold-hard look at myself. During my fencing career, I read all kinds of nutrition and strength training books and, in a certain light, probably presented as something of a bro scientist myself. However, more relevant to the issue at hand is my newly chosen profession. I came to writing pretty late in life. And one of the mandates of the job is that you have to be able to dive into a topic that you know little about and arrive on the other side with the ability to articulate a case.
Also, if you’ve been following the Mandate Letter since the beginning, you’ll know that I do occasionally cite scientific papers. In those instances, I’ve done my best to glean the most important lessons from the work. But I’m sure I have been guilty of oversimplification or have fallen victim to the temptation to turn correlation into a cause. So this begs the question: What is the difference between being a bro scientist and an (actual) critical thinker? I’m 100% not certain that I always fall on the better side of that line, but I do try to spot moments when I (or others) drift into the other territory.
The Bro Scientist Broken Down Into Four Problematic Traits.
Manufactures Unreasonable Certainty — When making a case, the bro scientist displays unwavering confidence in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary.
Weaponizes His Vocabulary — In a debate, the bro scientist deploys complicated, science-y words to feign the appearance of superior understanding and fend off common sense attacks.
Prefers a TwD to a PhD — The bro scientist overweights the opinion of a guy with 100K Twitter followers versus an academic who’s spent nearly a decade getting a degree.
Cites Untraceable Sourcing — When asked for the source of a dubious data point, the bro scientists say “I can’t remember,” “A friend told me about it,” or, perhaps most commonly, ”I heard it on a podcast.”
Well, What the F*$K Do We Do?
How we bring ourselves (or others) back from the brink of bro-scientism is difficult to say. I would wager that those who believe that the vaccine is just another money-grabbing ploy by the global cabal of the power-hungry elite will not be convinced by this tweet from Pfizer.
But I was struck by something I recently heard — oh lord, I can’t believe I’m about to type this — on a podcast. (In my defense, I can point to the exact podcast involving Caitlin Flanagan, a veteran writer for the Atlantic, and Bari Weiss, a former op-ed editor for the NY Times). The two are discussing the debate of abortion, which has reached a fever pitch in recent weeks with all that’s going on in Texas. Flanagan recounts how a lesson she learned from her father has shaped the way she thinks about the issue. You have to engage with the other side’s best argument not its worst, she said.
When I ask myself that question in regards to this essay — Have I engaged with Rodgers’s best argument? — I realize that I have not. Beneath his errant citations and misguided claims is a case for the freedom of choice. “I believe strongly in bodily autonomy and the ability to make choices for your body,” he said in one of his widely circulated interviews. Now that sounds like a cogent man with a thoughtful view. It’s just all the other garbage encircling this idea that makes you pound angry face emojis onto your keys.
Ok, so here goes. (Cracks knuckles). Yes, liberty is important; it is a foundational principle of our society. However, just because we live in the United States does not mean that every time we are told to do (or not do) something that we get to shake our fists and say “I have the right to choose!” For example, the “right” to own a gun. There are some states that permit people to carry weapons openly without a permit; however, gun owners still cannot bring those firearms into places like courthouses or schools. (Although, with the way things are going in the Supreme Court that may soon change). In those instances, the need for public safety prevails.
And while the NFL is not a public institution, it is an environment of high exposure. And, according to the ACLU (literally the leading institution protecting civil liberties), vaccine mandates are not an infringement of personal liberties. In fact, they expand civil liberties broadly because they protect more vulnerable people — “people with disabilities and fragile immune systems, children too young to be vaccinated and communities of color” — from harm. I think this is the crux of the problem. When many people talk about “fighting for their liberties,” they don’t mean liberty in the sense of the founding fathers, who envisioned a system of protections that would balance power between the government and the people. Instead, they simply mean “I want to do what I want to do.”
The other thing to point out is the NFL does not yet have a vaccine mandate in place. And the reason Rodgers was censured (and fined) was not that he didn’t get vaccinated but rather that he actively deceiving others into thinking that he did. So Rodgers’s decision to flout regulations designed to protect other players and people in his vicinity isn’t just a rule violation; frankly, it’s rude.
Testosterone — The Fountain of Masculinity?
Apropos of the above…
Two weeks ago, we had the inaugural meeting of the Mandate Book Club (soon to be rebranded as the Mandate Media Club, but more on that the next time around). I commend the brave group of souls that showed up because my first selection — a book called Testosterone, An Unauthorized Biography — was a bit dense, to say the least.
However, the tome did yield a fascinating perspective on a hormone that many think of as the source of masculinity. Over the course of 200+ pages, the authors (two social science PhDs) work fastidiously to debunk dozens of studies that link testosterone with characteristics like aggression, risk-taking, and athletic skill. The narrative takes on an occasional screed-like vibration, but it does, in my opinion, succeed in convincing you of its thesis: the science and general public narrative around testosterone has greatly exaggerated its role as the male sex hormone. “Is it even possible to separate out what [testosterone] can do from what people want it to do?” these two authors write.
I found this perspective profoundly interesting because I have long been suspicious of the average bro’s shilling of the idea that if you have high testosterone you are manly, “alpha,” and virile. Consequently, if you have low testosterone you are feminine, “beta,” and weak. The producers of this 2002 episode of “This American Life” all got their T levels checked and compared the results. Even though the subsequent conversation included the kind of sophisticated repartee you’d expect of Ira Glass and his colleagues, there were definitely moments when the men (and women) descended into a juvenile state. “If I can't be the most manly in public radio, where the hell can I be the most manly? I kind of wish this was SportsCenter because then I'd be OK,” the lowest T scoring male producer laments.
(Just imagine the kind of verbal assaults that would ensue if a male sports team went through this same exercise.)
At the same time, I also see an endocrinologist for a condition that affects my prolactin levels, a hormone that interacts with testosterone. Each year we check my hormone levels and it’s really difficult not to get excited when my T levels show up higher than before. That’s to say, I have internalized the narrative mentioned above as much anyone, and I feel a certain tension between my intellectual skepticism around the notion that testosterone is a proxy metric for masculinity and my general perspective on what I think is ideal in my own life. I guess I’ll just have to figure that out.
Take Me to the Man Park
If there is one thing SNL does well, it’s creating the kind of sketch comedy that makes you laugh and cringe at the same time. The cast recently released a video entitled “Man Park,” a fictional place where girlfriends and wives can take their men to bond. This is, of course, based on the evidence that men are too embarrassed to rely on their friends for emotional support and dump everything on their partners. It also makes light of the fact that men’s emotional social skills are about as delicate and nuanced as a barking dog.
While I love the pure silliness of the bit, I also feel that the parody may also lean too far into the problem and fail to hint at the real solution. In the “Man Park,” emotional bonding is shouting “Marvel” back and forth at each other in a “Dude, Where’s My Car” fashion. Yes, there is a frame or two of men hugging, but it seems that the only emotional bonding on offer is related to the exchange of cultural factoids. In other words, there’s no vulnerability.
I’m aware solving the masculinity crisis is not SNL’s job, which I’m guessing they would define as pointing at ridiculous things in culture and showing us why they are funny. But that technique is also equivalent to saying X+Y=?; in other words, we need spaces that can comment on the problem and offer a theory about the solution. In this case, it’s men spending quality time with each other and moving away from the trivial and into the deep. This skit probably could have delivered more if it momentarily broke from its up-tempo commercial rhythm and featured Pete Davidson saying to a fellow “Man Park” attendee something that revealed fear or anxiety or shame like, “Hey man, I’m concerned that maybe I’m smoking too much weed*.”
(*I don’t know if this is actually a real fear of his, but you get the point)
Department of (More) Links
💊 The Soft Sell — A brilliant piece by Jesse Barron about the telemedicine brand Hims which sells generic ED and hair-loss meds to men — NY Mag
👨🎤 Thinking Hard About Their Hair — A fun piece about the Tiger-Beat-Esque hair obsession of young male influencers on TikTok — NY Times
🥊 Can Jake Paul Fight His Way Out of Trouble — I’ve written about Paul in the past, but this investigation of the Youtuber-turned-boxer is truly an enviable piece of work — New Yorker
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