Masters of the Universe

Post World War America, the 1950s, seemed to be the dawn of a new era for men, but was in fact the beginning of the decline of traditional masculinity. The much publicized promise of this period would not be realized any time soon, nor by very many.

As the primitive Echo 1 communications satellite soared overhead to the delight of boys everywhere, and a young presidential nominee stood at a podium and called on "young men" of a "new generation" to join "a race for the mastery of the sky," the view from 1960 was glorious and inspiring. Susan Faludi in her 1999 book “Stiffed: The Betrayal of the American Man,” captures this era in some detail:

“The men of the fathers' generation had "won" the world and now they were giving it to their sons. Their nation had come into its own, powerful, wealthy, dominant, in control of the greatest destructive force ever imagined. The fathers had made their sons masters of the universe and it felt, as in the time of Alexander, that what they had created would last forever.”

If you were a baby boomer raised as a young man in the 1960s, you may well have internalized these concepts without even realizing it. This interior cultural aspiration may have driven you to take on significant challenges, pursued educational achievements beyond your class, or driven you to travel the world to understand how others live. That is, if you were not side-tracked by the social upheaval and disenchantment brought about by the Vietnam War, the civil rights movement, second wave feminism, and the explosive mainstreaming of alternative gender identities.

Gen X’ers may have been inspired as children by the moon landings from 1969 to 1972, and the original U.S. space station, Skylab. Perhaps Millennials felt the mastery touch while observing the construction of the International Space Station 1998-2008, surely a major achievement among nations. But the 1980s and 90s were rough times, as the haves and have nots were separated like never before, and most of us joined our fellow common men among the have nots, thus dampening our sense of mastery and pretending to be happy just to find work.

There is perhaps no better representation of the 1980s than Tom Wolfe’s 1987 novel The Bonfire of the Vanities, which popularized the “master of the universe” phrase, and was followed by the Brian De Palma film by the same name in 1990. These were satirical takes on the greedy 1980s in which “masters” were the elite Wall Street traders who controlled everyone’s money until personal falls from grace and illegal scams brought an end to it all.

By the time Generation Z turned up, there was little remaining mastery available. These young men and women grew up during a time of war. America had been attacked and had begun hunting for enemies. Many young men died overseas fighting wars they barely understood and which were ultimately pointless.

And yet through all of these generations, there were always pockets of men who gathered in the fight for mastery, for manhood, for what they believed were their rights and capabilities as men. These were largely fringe groups like the Promise Keepers, various New Age or “mythopoetic” men’s groups, an assortment of “angry white men’s” groups, and gatherings under the Men’s Rights Movement which would eventually implode under the weight of conflicting agendas.

Of course the original master of the universe was not a man at all, but a god, as in the origins of the phrase, the Hebrew Ribbono Shel Olom or “God.” But this did not prevent Mattel from launching the fantastically successful “Masters of the Universe” media and toy franchise in 1982, or the eponymous DC comic series launched in the same year. Or the cheesy live-action film released in 1987 and starring Dolph Lundgren and Frank Langella. For more than 40 years, children could find He-Man and She-Ra action figures available on toy shelves.

For Generation Z, notions of mastery were limited to social media thrills, video games and Netflix remakes of the 1987 film. The latter included two animated series, Masters of the Universe Revelations (2021) and Masters of the Universe Revolution (2024). More than a dozen video games grew out of the Mattel franchise, as the essential conflict between He-Man and the evil Skeletor was adapted into various game formats, the most recent released in 2012.

During a period spanning little more than half a century, traditional masculinity had collapsed, “mastery of the sky” traded for the digital television dish in the yard and 91 channels. The once-valued male attributes of craft, loyalty, fatherhood and social utility are no longer honored, much less rewarded. But the mastery had not faded due to any change in men’s inner selves, hormones, anger or essential capabilities. Arguably, it had never really existed, or at best, was a sort of pablum for the masses.

Men have not changed. Only the culture and society around them have shifted. Nevertheless, mastery or not, 21st century men must use all of their innate creativity to adapt to conditions as they are today. We must work harder to attain true community, nourish relationships and promote generosity both within the brotherhood and for the greater good.