“And the most glorious exploits do not always furnish us with the clearest discoveries of virtue or vice in men; sometimes a matter of less moment, an expression or a jest, informs us better of their characters and inclinations, than the most famous sieges, the greatest armaments, or the bloodiest battles whatsoever.” -Plutarch
Growing up in a single-mother household of five, I was, without question, profoundly blessed. My mother, a woman of immense fortitude and resilience, bore the burdens of the world while nurturing her four children and instilling in us the values of hard work and dignity. Yet, as grateful as I am for her strength, there was something conspicuously absent in my life: a father, or any male presence, who could impart to me the virtues and responsibilities of manhood.
A father is not merely a provider but a moral architect–a model of discipline, strength, and integrity. Unfortunately, too many young men today grow up in homes that are not unlike mine, homes where this guidance is missing. The consequence is evident in a society that increasingly dismisses traditional masculinity as something that is, at best, outmoded and, at worst, a type of toxin that must be eliminated.
While I was fortunate enough to encounter father figures—kindly neighbors, the fathers of friends, and men of the cloth—who helped to fill this gap in various ways, none of them could fully substitute for the enduring presence of a father, a man to model the virtues I aspired to cultivate as a boy. I unexpectedly found guidance, however, in the pages of an ancient text, a book that has served as a moral compass for men across centuries. Enter Plutarch.
In the dimly lit corners of my local library, I first encountered a dusty five-volume set of Plutarch’s Lives at age fourteen. There, on a neglected shelf, the once-colorful-now-faded bindings of the set caught my eye. I randomly opened to the life of Cato the Younger—a man of uncompromising principles and a deep sense of duty. I sat on a step stool and read on. In Cato, I found a man who, though not without flaws, exemplified, to the nth degree, virtues that had been sorely missing in my life. As I delved into the biographies of men like Cicero, Caesar, the Gracchi, and Alexander, I realized that these were not just historical figures—they were models of manhood. Here I found ideals of courage, honor, and resilience which are sorely lacking in modern narratives, but which I, and other young men like me, craved.
Each life Plutarch chronicled became a template, offering guidance in a way that no classroom or counsel had. Despite their flaws, these men exemplified virtue—virtues that, contrary to the misguided social commentary of our day, transcend eras and cultures, offering enduring lessons for young men. “To seek power by servility to the people is a disgrace, but to maintain it by terror, violence, and oppression, is not a disgrace only, but an injustice,” seems like a note suited for all at Harvard today who walk the line between flattery and unchecked ambition.1
Greatness is not measured by wealth or power, but by one’s adherence to virtue in the face of trials.
For young men, especially those raised in a culture so critical of masculinity, these figures from antiquity provide a map for navigating a hostile world. Men like Cato, Cicero, and Alexander were imperfect, but they embodied ideals that every man ought to strive toward—honor, courage, wisdom, and a deep sense of duty to their family, their society, and their principles. I am not Cato, Cicero, or Alexander. I am no great man. But by reading about their lives, and through the constant human cycle of rise and fall to which we are all subject, I can more clearly see the man I aspire to become.
The absence of fathers in the lives of young men is one of the primary crises of our time. Sociological studies consistently show that young men raised without fathers are more likely to struggle in school, engage in criminal behavior, and develop emotional and behavioral problems,2 and fatherless young women are more likely to become pregnant as teens3—and to kill their children.4 This is no accident. Fathers—or, at the bare minimum, strong male role models—are necessary to form a child's moral compass. In the absence of these guiding figures, young men flounder, unsure of what it means to even be a man.
Plutarch, in his way, became my surrogate father, in so much as his text resembled the rolodex of stories and parables common to fathers. I could turn to nearly any page and gain something from its print. The stories of heroes, unencumbered by the moral grandstanding and virtue signaling that seem to dominate contemporary retellings, taught me that greatness is not measured by wealth or power, but by one’s adherence to virtue in the face of trials.
Plutarch’s men face temptations, moral dilemmas, and personal trials that resonate as deeply today as they did centuries ago. Plutarch’s Lives is ultimately a gift to the fatherless young men of today—a beacon of guidance in a world that often seems darkened by confusion and disillusionment. The legacy of these ancient men should not be forgotten. Because of the oikophobia of our era, we risk losing touch with the wisdom that has shaped civilizations. Young men need these stories—and they need fathers—as much as ever. As I found guidance in their lives, so too can others find a path forward through these great works. Plutarch’s Lives, standing the test of time, offers not just history but hope, showing us that in our pursuit of virtue, we are never truly alone.
JOHN HENRY NEWMAN
A version of this article originally appeared in Forever Young, the December 2024 print issue of the Salient.
Plutarch. “Comparison of Alcibiades with Coriolanus.” Essay. In Plutarch: Lives of the Noble Grecians and Romans, edited by Arthur Hugh Clough, 1996. https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/674/pg674-images.html.
Brad Wilcox et al., “‘Life without Father’: Less College, Less Work, and More Prison for Young Men Growing up without Their Biological Father.” Institute for Family Studies, June 17, 2022. https://ifstudies.org/blog/life-without-father-less-college-less-work-and-more-prison-for-young-men-growing-up-without-their-biological-father.
Rob Schwarzwalder, et al. “How Fatherlessness Impacts Early Sexual Activity, Teen Pregnancy, and Sexual Abuse.” Family Research Council, December 2015. https://downloads.frc.org/EF/EF15L32.pdf.
Brewer, Jack. “Issue Brief: Fatherlessness and Its Effects on American Society.” America First Policy Institute, May 15, 2023. https://americafirstpolicy.com/issues/issue-brief-fatherlessness-and-its-effects-on-american-society.
Great essay. Rob Henderson's book "Troubled" resonates with your insights.
My father died when I was 14, and I was grateful for the attention of 2 uncles and a first cousin of my father who stepped up to make sure I did not feel the depth of the void. One lesson that all of us should internalize is the importance of stepping up to help in such situations.
An important message of this article is the value of highlighting people who exemplify important values. I've tried to do so in the context of recent disturbances at Harvard in 2 WSJ articles, with open access versions at https://segal.org/gaza/harvardprotesters/ and https://segal.org/gaza/fight/.
Readers may also be interested in the book "Too Many Women" by the late Harvard sociology professor Marcia Guttentag. The book explores the consequences of different sex ratios on society due to factors such as incarceration, war or different percentages at birth.