Lloyd - Stand by your manhood: a game-changer for modern men

MEN ARE BRILLIANT .

Being a man is brilliant. Seriously, it is. Except for penile dysmorphia, circumcision, paying the bill, becoming a weekend father, critics whove been hating on us for, well, pretty much fifty years oh, and those pesky early deaths.

Suicide isnt much of a laugh either. Nor is paternity fraud, schools failing boys, military conscription, conception by deception, the criminal sentencing gap, coughing up 70 per cent of income tax, dominating homeless statistics or getting throat cancer from oral sex, which ironically is whats really going down for a new, unassuming generation who still arent briefed on lifes nagging bloke truths.

Hence the time is now for a new, improved approach to masculinity.

From our relationships with women to our relations with ourselves, nobody should be more informed on the everyday politics of being men than us. Its our prerogative.

Yet, despite living in societys most liberal age, our greatest ever technological era where ideas, information and the occasional celebrity porn tape can be shared in an instant tackling the gritty, salty stuff integral to our well-being, not to mention our hair line, remains strictly off-limits. Not because we cant communicate, but because the truth is inconvenient for everyone else.

Men being honest really, truly candid about what affects them sexually, financially, legally and psychologically remains rigidly taboo because its the ultimate game-changer.

Funnily enough, thats precisely why we should embrace it. Like a piata for the pissed off, weve spent decades being the trendy target in a long line of public floggings. The overrated, unfashionable gender. The one social group its politically correct no, no virtuous to dislike. In fact, man-bashing has become mainstream, so lucrative that people build entire careers on it which might explain why, for many, it musnt be ruined with a reality check.

The megalomania of it all recently snowballed to the point of censorship, with the European Union attempting to criminalise any criticism of the sisterhood via the (ironically titled) Statute for Promotion of Tolerance, whilst Facebook already suspends users for the same reason which, together, isnt just bonkers, but a bit Putin, too.

Thankfully, theres light at the end of the tunnel.

When Londons Southbank Centre held the UKs first ever mens festival, Being A Man, earlier this year, it was a line in the sand. Putting our issues on the map with a straight-down-the-middle legitimacy, it attracted hundreds of people from all demographics male, female, young, old, black, white, gay, straight to chew over the credentials of masculinity in a worthy space. Think Radio 4, but with beards and some really trendy brochure artwork.

Topics ranged from friendship with Billy Bragg and Phill Jupitus detailing the success of their cast-iron, twenty-year kinship to mental health, fathers and marriage. Even Tony Blairs former spin doctor, Alastair Campbell not to be mistaken for UB40s Ali Campbell, as one onlooker did detailed his journey back from alcoholism and depression at a time when mens self-destruct stats are at a record high.

Aside from being one of the few instances in human history where men, not women, had to queue for the toilets, it also offered another first: men were allowed to dip their toes into feminism without apology or the fear of being wrestled into a headlock by Germaine Greer. About time, too. By this point wed been criticised non-stop for about half a century, so were probably due a right to reply. Maybe even a full-scale comeback, like the Union Jack. Years ago, it, like us, was considered a symbol of benevolence and strength, before modern sensitivities made it naff perhaps even offensive. Although it never changed, attitudes around it did. So when Morrissey took to the stage in 1992 with it draped across his shoulders, the NME accused him of being racist; an accusation which, although incorrect, made everyone edgy. Suddenly, people were fine being patriotic, but only sheepishly. They didnt possess themselves too loudly for fear of being misinterpreted as jingoistic and torn down.

It took the Queens Diamond Jubilee in 2012 for everybody to finally relax and discover a renewed comfort level with national pride. The reason? Theyd been given permission to.

On some level, Being A Man offered a similar thing. It allowed those wanting to fly the flag of their gender to do so, freely be it holding doors open, sitting with their legs apart or having a sense of basic worth without being labelled sexist (or, in the case of Game of Thrones actor Richard Madden, threatened with castration).

Although it wasnt perfect, the festival set us off on the long, hard slog of detoxing masculinity and countering the disconnect between us and everything good. Not only did it offer permission for men to be men, but it was also a commercial success which pricked ears. Since then, similar events have cropped up in India and the US, where, most recently, hundreds gathered in Detroit for Americas first conference on men and boys.

Of course, some questioned why they were needed at all. Female critics sneered every day is a mens festival, whilst a handful of grandstanding guys asked: Whats the point of more pale, stale males getting together and talking about themselves? The answer is simple: because, despite 1.9 million years of evolution, we still havent quite nailed this thing called life.

Even at our best, brilliant people like John Cleese drop the baton which is disconcerting considering hes one of our better brand ambassadors. Intelligent, acclaimed and in possession of the super-brain behind Monty Python, which might just be the funniest sketch show ever, he continually buys into marriage despite three failed attempts, including one to Alyce Faye Eichelberger, who got more of his fortune than he did when they split. Still, after paying her off with 600,000 per year for seven years, an 8 million lump sum, an apartment in New York, a 2 million London mews and half a beach house in California, he soon went off and married somebody else only signing a last-minute pre-nup on the hair-pulling insistence of lawyers.

Some might call this admirable, but theres nothing romantic about financial ruin.

No less frustrating are the likes of Wimbledon champion Boris Becker, who can ace a sports tournament with ease but cant appreciate that as a man, and especially a famous, rich man hes a sitting duck for anyone determined to get a baby with a bursary and a lifestyle to boot. Thus, if hes going to have random sex with an opportunist in a restaurant, he might want to consider the possibility of an ulterior motive, or expect a fax and a bill nine months later.