by Betsey Stevenson
Economists spend a lot of time talking about jobs. Work is not only how people support themselves financially, it can also be the way in which they contribute to society, create unique identities and find meaning in the world. When work disappears or shifts, people can feel as unmoored and confused as Ken in Greta Gerwig’s “Barbie,” who had one last moment in the spotlight at last Sunday’s Academy Awards, when Ryan Gosling performed the Oscar-nominated song “I’m Just Ken.”
Gosling lost — to his fellow Barbie nominee Billie Eilish — just as Ken is emotionally lost in Barbieland. Ken’s identity crisis, born from the lack of a clearly defined purpose, mirrors a narrative that has been unfolding for American working-class men for decades. The economy has shifted beneath their feet, leaving many like Ken: struggling with a mix of anger, hurt and confusion.
In the mid-1960s, roughly a third of U.S. jobs involved manufacturing and other goods-producing sectors. Men held roughly 80% of those jobs. In the decades since, the number of jobs in the goods-producing sector has been largely stable. At the same time, the service sector has exploded, adding about 100 million jobs.
Men still hold 77% of jobs in the goods-producing sector. Unfortunately, the U.S. and global economy have moved on — and the shift has happened without the creation of a new narrative for men. So working-class men like Ken are stumbling around a socioeconomic landscape seeking a foothold in a society that seems to have no role for them, largely eschewing the new working-class job opportunities in the service sector.
The result is that job growth has disproportionately gone to women, 92% of whom work in services. But unlike in Barbieland, in the real world the division is not just between men and women, but between college-educated and working-class men. Men with college and advanced degrees have high labor force participation rates, high marriage rates and high earnings. These elite men have thrived in an economy that evolved to prioritize intellectual prowess.
In Barbie, Ken confronts this contrast when he goes into the real world. He is granted respect and authority from the patriarchy, but once they learn what his skill set is — “beach” — men turn their backs on him. When Ken tells a male executive that the executive isn’t “doing patriarchy very well,” the response is a knowing smile and reassurance that patriarchy is still being “done well” — it is just better hidden.
The moment reflects the tensions between highly educated and working-class men. The first group continues to give their male colleagues a slight edge in promotions and hiring, and to abandon working-class men.
In the real world, working-class men are often seen at the center of attempts to roll back the social clock, perhaps because they have witnessed the biggest losses, both socially and economically. But making divorce harder, or passing policies to revive the moribund goods-producing sector, cannot solve the problems of men.
Trapping people in marriage is not a good way to make it work. Marriage takes real work — the work of blending identities and narratives. With men struggling to understand their place in society, it is hardly surprising that they are struggling to build a shared vision for a life as a father and a partner.
So how can men move forward when the traditional roles and economic pathways no longer hold the same promise? The answer is to take the advice of Barbie. At the end of the movie, she implores Ken to find himself. Working-class men now have an opportunity to find their passions and use them to form a new narrative for their life. What does masculinity look like in a society that has little room for physical toughness, sexual prowess, dominance and aggression? Or a society in which emotional vulnerability and connection is central?
The world is on the cusp of another technological wave that will reshape the economic landscape by giving an increasing number of tasks to robots and artificial intelligence. Efforts to protect or revive the U.S. manufacturing sector are like adding more water to a draining bathtub. It will keep the water level higher for a while, but eventually the tub will empty.
In a world in which artificial technology increasingly replaces our work, our humanity will become ever more important. As humans, we have never been more free to make the life and relationships we want. But unless we update our expectations, we won’t be able to take full advantage.
The challenges of working-class men today are a problem for all of us — and a warning for all our futures. Creating a new role for working-class men in the 21st century won’t be easy, but doing so is essential. And if we can forge a new narrative for men and masculinity, it might just be Kenough.
