Nearly every week a new opinion piece muses about the problems affecting young men, often followed by another questioning if con-cerns are overblown. It can be a thorny subject to broach. Advocating for men can feel suspect when women’s reproductive rights are no longer federally protected, they have never been in the majority in Congress or on the Supreme Court, and the pay gap persists. But evidence is mounting that some young men, particularly those from rural, poor, and minority backgrounds, are being left behind—and ignoring a problem just allows it to fester.
“It is an axiom of political and cultural life that if problems go ignored, they turn into grievances that can be exploited,” said Richard Reeves, a senior fellow of the Brookings Institution, during a keynote about the widening gender gap in education held at UVM last April.
Reeves, author of Of Boys and Men: Why the Modern Male is Struggling, Why It Matters, and What to Do about It, argues that investing in boys shouldn’t come at the expense of girls—that both need to be able to recast their lives outside traditional gender roles.
“There are huge issues that we still have to face and continue to work on to get more women into STEM, more women in politics, more representation, safer public spaces,” Reeves said. “And there are a growing number of issues where we have to pay more attention now to boys and men, including in education, many areas of mental health, in terms of their abilities to be fathers in a radically transformed world. And we have to do both those things at once."
Disappearing men
Over the past five decades, men have slowly faded from many college campuses, including the University of Vermont. By the fall of 2023, the population of male-identifying students at UVM dropped to its lowest point since World War II. The Covid-19 pandemic ex-acerbated this downward trend. While enrollment nationwide fell during Covid, male enrollment hit a new low. The first-year class at UVM in the fall of 2021 was 31 percent male.
The decline didn’t happen overnight.
Changes in federal policy during the Civil Rights Era reduced financial barriers for low-income students through scholarships and loans. The passage of Title IX in 1972 specifically prevented sex discrimination in educational settings. At the time, women received less than 44 percent of undergraduate degrees in the United States and comprised just 3 percent of lawyers in the country. These federal sup-ports, alongside cultural shifts, enabled women to both envision and pursue new pathways for financial independence. They started outpacing men in the college population by the early ’80s. Now, the undergraduate gender gap has flipped—and widened.
The decline didn’t go unnoticed. In 1999, the feminist writer Susan Faludi published Stiffed: The Betrayal of the American Man, in which she argues that the “ornamental masculinity” promoted after World War II reduced men’s value as financial providers in a consumeristic culture. As globalization and mechanization upended the U.S economy—manufacturing jobs peaked in 1979—some men were left without a sense of purpose. Because the world changed, but ideas of masculinity didn’t.
It will hurt us on both sides of the gender spectrum...Men don’t want to go to an all-women’s school, and we know that a significant proportion of women don’t want to either. We’re not there...I think we’re moving in the right direction.
“Moving in the right direction”
Jay Jacobs, UVM’s Vice President for Enrollment Management, is a numbers guy. His job every year is to recruit a strong pool of students to UVM who can thrive in college. When Jacobs came to UVM in 2021 the gender disparity on campus was already on the radar.
“I vividly remember my very first meeting with our athletic director talking about the gender split,” he recalls. “There are operational things that rely on a more balanced gender ratio, and all of that is due to Title IX. … With Title IX you often think about slots on teams, opportunities to play in NCAA athletics. It also goes beyond that. If we get too out of balance with our gender ratio, then we are at risk of being not compliant with Title IX.”
There is also a tipping point that admissions offices fear will hurt the ability to recruit all students. The same idea occurs when professions become too gendered—it can become difficult for others to break through.
“It will hurt us on both sides of the gender spectrum,” Jacobs explains. “Men don’t want to go to an all-women’s school, and we know that a significant proportion of women don’t want to either. We’re not there. I don’t think we will get there. I think we’re moving in the right direction.”
While some universities invested more in sports to attract male students, or developed specialized marketing campaigns, UVM focused on programming. The enrollment management team routinely surveys UVM students and admitted students and holds focus groups to understand trends. They found that women are more attracted to social justice and environmentalism while school spiritedness, entrepreneurship, and global engagement appeal more to men. The team markets UVM’s existing strengths in these areas and supported the launch of new initiatives such as the Vermont Pitch Challenge for high school students. The winner of the business competition receives a full tuition scholarship to UVM. It appears to be working—57 percent of Pitch submissions are from men.
This fall, UVM’s gender balance returned to pre-Covid levels, with males comprising 40 percent of the student body. The university also joined the Higher Education Male Achievement Collaborative, an effort to reduce the gender gap in college and increase graduation rates for male students who drop out at higher rates.
“What we’re doing is moving the needle,” Jacobs says.
An issue of cost and confidence
Importantly, women aren’t pushing men out of college—men are choosing not to come. While some men don’t need a college degree for the job they want, the achievement gap between boys and girls, particularly in literacy, happens early on in education and may erode their opportunity to attend college in the future.
“The pipeline problem goes way before a student raises their hand to say they are interested in UVM,” Jacobs says. “… As the land-grant public flagship institution in the state, I think we have a mission-critical aspect of making this place accessible to all Vermonters. We, along with the other public institutions of higher education in the state, have some obligation and some power to move the college-going rate needle.”
According to Jacobs, there are two main reasons Vermonters, primarily men, aren’t coming to college. The first is cost—either the perceived cost of college or the opportunity cost of foregoing making money in a job directly out of high school.
“The other is the confidence levels,” Jacobs says. “And I think that is exacerbated in our state being a rural state and [the perception of] UVM as this ivory tower on the hill and ‘I don’t belong there.’” In recent years, UVM introduced the UVM Promise, a program that allows eligible Vermonters to attend tuition-free, to boost the college-going rate. The confidence piece is potentially trickier to overcome. And it exists at a precipitous time. Fewer men in their working prime are participating in the labor force than in decades prior. A 2025 report from the U.S. Bureau of Labor projects half of the 20 professions predicted to grow fastest over the next decade are in healthcare, a sector where social skills are critical, and in which women already dominate. The other top growth areas include green energy, accounting, and computer and data sciences, which mostly require some advanced degree or certification.
But one statistic in particular gnaws at Jacobs: the suicide rate of men ages 15 to 24. That figure has accelerated and is now four times that of women.
“It’s the same number as the number of women we lose to breast cancer every year,” he says. “But we don’t have the same kind of visibility or conversation about the male suicide problem.”
There are a few different “whys” that the drop in male college-going rate matters—the “operational why” and the “philosophical why,” Jacobs says.
“We need diverse perspectives on our campus,” he explains. “We know that there are significant civic implications of not educating men. We know that there are significant political implications, meaning being an engaged democratic citizen. We know that there are safety issues—higher suicide rates among uneducated men over college-educated men. … We need to be welcoming to all.”
Standing out
Holden Larsen ’24 always knew he would go to college. He grew up in Kirby, Vt., in a family where higher education was valued. Larsen enrolled at UVM because he wanted to stay in Vermont, and because his brother went there.
“I knew the community and I knew that I had community,” he says.
Larsen majored in psychology and thrived in college. He studied abroad in Japan for a year and gained fluency in the language. Larsen recently reconnected with middle school friends, one who told him about forgoing college after high school to work for his father’s cabinetmaking company.
“He is making good money. He is buying a house. So, I was like, you are winning!,” Larsen says with a laugh. His friend wasn’t so sure. He described turning 18, feeling afraid, and taking the easy way out.
“I get that,” Larsen says. “He was really scared to make that transition. For me, there was no other path.”
These days Larsen is earning his yoga teacher certification, hoping to blend his psychology background with the health and fitness side of yoga, and feels he took the right path for himself. “I have grown, and I have learned a lot more about myself. And that development is 100 percent why people should go to college.”
But his experience was eye-opening in other ways, too. For instance, Larsen worked as a resident advisor his sophomore year and not-ed the severe gender ratio imbalance on his floor. In some classes, he was one of only a few male students. Sometimes it made him nervous to speak, especially if his experiences didn’t match what most of his classmates already thought.
“There is a lot of pressure,” Larsen says. “It was hard. … As a man it’s kind of like you’re bigger, you stand out, so you feel like obviously I am the strongest person here, but dude, we are so sensitive to emotional stuff.”
Growing up, Larsen often hung out more with female friends, so it wasn’t an altogether unfamiliar dynamic, but sometimes, he says, “I kind of wish I had more just easy male connections around me.”
In his senior year, Larsen discovered a program designed to foster this type of community: My Meaning of Masculinity (M3). The pro-gram developed out of a working group spearheaded by UVM’s Women and Gender Equity Center, aiming to engage masculine-identifying students. It started as targeted trainings for Greek life or athletes about healthy relationship skills, explains Evan Cuttitta ’16, UVM’s Men & Masculinities Program director.
Cuttitta was hired in 2022 to coordinate a men and masculinities program. The foundation of M3 is based on intergroup dialogue where participants are expected to recognize areas where they agree and disagree or simply listen to each other without judgment. Larsen loved attending the sessions.
“I would consider myself on the more masculine side of things in terms of the way I was raised and the way that I think,” he says. “But then you have also people who are on different spectrums of masculinity, different ways of seeing it … It was not a dialogue about this is what [masculinity] is and this is what it should be, it was much more like how do we accept ourselves … and how does the idea of masculinity even affect our life? It was really cool.”
Months after graduating Larsen is still reflecting on the program. For instance, being able to talk about his time in Japan, where gender roles are rather strict and his outgoing personality was not always appreciated.
“Getting to speak about that, and have stake, and be vulnerable in that way, you can read about it, you can write about it, but like saying it in front of people sticks with you,” Larsen says.
We, along with the other public institutions of higher education in the state, have some obligation and some power to move the college-going rate needle.
Making connections
In 2023, then Surgeon General Dr. Vivek Murthy released Our Epidemic of Loneliness and Isolation, a report outlining a problem plaguing both the old and the young across the country. Ironically, loneliness and isolation are not individual problems. They erode the fabric of our society.
“Instead of coming together to take on the great challenges before us, we will further retreat to our corners—angry, sick, and alone,” the report warns.
Belonging is more than a fuzzy feeling. A sense of belonging is an intrinsic human need. Socially connected people have more people to lean on and more relationships that promote positive behavior. Yet, Americans’ social networks are shrinking, and young adults spend less time socializing with friends than ever. This can have deadly consequences—social connection is a critical factor for reducing suicide, particularly for men.
The Surgeon General’s report calls for action across institutions, including for dialogue in schools to foster deeper social connections. That is precisely what UVM’s M3 program aims to do and something Evan Cuttitta knows something about. In 2011, he enrolled at UVM to major in environmental science. A high performer in high school, Cuttitta’s grades were shaky at UVM, and he says he felt like an imposter in the program. This collided with a desire to prove his independence, so Cuttitta struggled in silence.
“I intentionally avoided asking for help when I was struggling academically,” he admits. “I didn’t know how to be vulnerable as a way to form some deep relationships.”
With his grades tanking, Cuttitta took a semester off to re-evaluate. Back home, he took community college classes and volunteered on a farm and for a food rescue nonprofit.
“I realized I have this really deep, strong value for service,” he says.
That understanding shaped his trajectory back at UVM. Cuttitta joined clubs, volunteered every semester, and became a peer men-tor—experiences that deepened his connections in the community and gave him a greater sense of purpose.
Prosocial behaviors are essential for any student to succeed in society and have a fulfilling life, Cuttitta explains. “The thought behind M3 was to focus on behaviors that support persistence in college. … A big thing that we stress is help seeking behaviors and the different ways that looks.” This help could come in the form of a tutor or a mentor—and it doesn’t always have to come from another man, Cuttitta explains.
Most of the M3 programming is open to people of all gender identities. In fact, transgender men are the second most common gender identity attending M3 events. This year, the M3 program is building a peer-mentorship program. The goal is to provide another door to connect people, especially Generation Z men, Cuttitta says. “Seventy-seven percent of Gen Z men say they say can depend on three people or fewer outside of the family. … Having people you can depend on is a huge part of persisting in college.”
It’s also a huge part of persisting in life.
Unfortunately, the messaging Gen Z men receive is increasingly strict. In June, Equimundo: Center for Masculinities and Social Justice released its latest report, State of American Men, and surfaced alarming trends: Most men and women say the key trait of manhood is being a financial provider, and the percentage of men who agree with masculine norms that prioritize emotional stoicism, physical dominance, and self-reliance is growing. Moreover, men facing financial instability were 16 times more likely to report suicidal ideation. The results mirror a 2023 meta-analysis that found male norms of emotional suppression and failing to meet standards of male success were associated with suicide risk.
“We need a less rigid way for men to exist,” Cuttitta says. “The expectation for all men to be the breadwinners is harmful to men and women, and simply unrealistic. Men are human beings with emotions, talents, and dignity. So why don’t we imagine multiple ways of being a ‘provider’ through service, caretaking, [or] teaching?”
Reframing masculinity
Before coming to UVM, Sean Pouncey had never heard of a masculine space, unless it was inside a locker room. He grew up in Montgomery, Ala., the child of separated parents who didn’t have a healthy relationship. Pouncey often felt angry and depressed and didn’t know how or who to talk about it.
“It felt humiliating sometimes to be like ‘hey, can I talk to you? This is really bothering me,’” Pouncey says. “... You don’t see your friends asking for help, and then you do it and then it makes, just subconsciously, it makes you feel like, am I doing something wrong?”
Pouncey, a sociology major, chose to attend UVM to experience an unfamiliar place and step outside his comfort zone. That process has involved following his advisor’s nudges to join both UVM’s Young Men of Talent and M3 program.
“It made me realize that a lot of the things that we talked about in M3, I think about a lot,” Pouncey says. “And it made me realize that maybe some of my experiences are actually worth listening to.”
Now he finds himself trying to engage other male individuals on campus to join M3.
“I needed it more than I thought I did,” he says. “Since going to the M3 program, and being at UVM in general, I feel like I’m starting to transform into the person that I really want to be. There are certain things I don’t want to be associated with myself, and there are things I am working on.”
I have grown, and I have learned a lot more about myself. And that development is 100 percent why people should go to college.
For Pouncey, that means modeling the behavior he wants to see. Growing up, he repeatedly saw that the people hurt most from sexual and domestic violence in his circles were women and children. Pouncey wants to break that cycle.
“There is no sugarcoating it, this is a problem with masculinity,” he says. “Men are doing this to their own children, their wives.”
Pouncey sees the M3 program as both a healing space and a place to encourage needed dialogue for men on campus. He puts this belief into practice by taking on advocacy roles on campus.
“I try to show less of what it means to be a man and more what it means to be a human. … Characteristics of compassion, empathy, kindness, caring—none of these things are inherently bad. They shouldn’t be genderized,” he says. “Masculinity doesn’t have to be so rooted in manly things.”
Pouncey also volunteers with Discover UVM—the same program that introduced him to UVM—and served as a panelist and orientation leader this fall. Afterwards, a first-year student approached him about joining M3.
“That is probably the proudest moment on campus that I’ve had so far,” he says with a smile.
Pouncey’s left arm is decorated with tattoos, including a character from a favorite video game, half of two hearts that mirrors one of his sister’s, and a semicolon.
“Do you know what the semicolon represents?” Pouncey asks. “In English, the semicolon is to indicate that the writer will continue, versus a period.… It’s a [suicide awareness] movement: stay another day.”
For him, the tattoo is a daily reminder to live out his values. He believes if it wasn’t for the insistence of his advisor to join UVM’s Young Men of Talent and M3 programs that fewer doors would be open to him, including the opportunity to be featured in the new documentary about male disengagement, “Gone Guys”(see related story).
“It just goes to show that sometimes one person can open up a whole new world,” he says.
