A boy doesn’t usually say it out loud. But he’s always asking:
Who’s in charge?
Who’s with me?
What’s the mission?
You’ll see it in the way he sizes up his coach. In how he mimics his older brother. In the way he pushes boundaries—not to be bad, but to find where he fits. Boys don’t crave chaos. They crave clarity.
And when we fail to give it, they drift.
That’s the quiet crisis we’re facing with American boys today. And we’re not talking about it nearly enough.
A Generation Without a Map
Over the last decade, boys have been falling behind—academically, socially, emotionally. They’re more anxious, more isolated, and less motivated. Young men are checking out of college, of work, of life. And under it all is something deeper than boredom or rebellion.
It’s confusion.
Our culture has grown uncomfortable with masculinity. We reward stillness, punish motion, and treat risk as a pathology. We flatten distinctions between boys and girls and then wonder why so many boys seem lost.
But this isn’t just about identity. It’s about purpose.
And I saw that firsthand last summer.
A Campfire in the Wild
I’m the CEO of a ministry called Trail Life USA. We use outdoor adventure to engage boys and develop character and leadership skills. Last summer, we were deep in the mountains of Montana—far from screens, suburbs, and cell service. A group of Trailmen (as we call the boys in the program) had come to retrace the route of Lewis and Clark, but this wasn’t a museum tour. This was a full-on Corps of Discovery expedition—rugged terrain, primitive campsites, packs on backs, navigating by map and compass, cooking over fires, hauling gear downriver.
And the boys led it.
One of them—an unassuming 15-year-old named Ricky—was elected Patrol Leader. His patrol included two older, more experienced boys who easily could have taken charge. But they didn’t. They recognized something in him. And they followed.
As we moved through the wilderness, Ricky didn’t bark orders. He listened. He planned. He served. When challenges came—and they did—he stayed calm. He inspired confidence. And by the end of the trek, his patrol wasn’t just a group of guys on a trip. It was a team. A brotherhood. The kind that lasts a lifetime.
That’s what happens when boys are given real responsibility. When they’re trusted to lead—and supported by men who believe in them.
Purpose Over Perfection
The transformation I saw in those boys wasn’t accidental. It didn’t come from a lecture or a YouTube video. It came from challenge, structure, and shared mission. It came from putting boys in a place where they could try, fail, get up, and grow.
That’s what boys are wired for—not ease, but meaning.
That’s why those three questions—Who’s in charge? Who’s with me? What’s the mission?—are the same questions that gangs, online radicalizers, and toxic influences know how to answer. It’s not that boys want danger. It’s that they want belonging. Significance. Brotherhood.
And if we don’t offer them a healthy version, they’ll find a twisted one.
We Still Have Time
The good news is this: it’s not too late. Boys haven’t changed. They’re still full of potential. But they need men willing to show up—not to criticize, but to call them up.
You don’t have to be a perfect dad or an expert mentor. You just have to care. Show up. Stay present. Give them structure, encouragement, and opportunities to lead. Because no program, podcast, or policy can replace the presence of a man who believes in a boy and walks with him through the wild.
So let’s stop asking, “What’s wrong with boys?”
And start asking, “What are they made for?”
Because boys are still asking those questions. And the world still needs them to hear the right answers.
Find a Troop near you or Learn how to bring Trail Life to your community at TrailLifeUSA.com
