Beards, it seems, aren’t quite as sexy as they used to be. You may have heard people talking about the “hot rodent boyfriend” – the conventionally good-looking, high-cheekboned, non-bearded skinny guys, all looking as if they could be “the Sensitive One” in any given boyband. With the likes of Barry Keoghan and Jacob Elordi in Saltburn, Jeremy Allen White in The Bear and Timothée Chalamet (in everything) taking leading roles as today’s screen heartthrobs, you might wonder whether the moment when beardedness was synonymous with attractiveness has long gone.
It was only two years ago that journalists were declaring beards to be the “trend that will never end”, and only five years ago we were opining on how celebrities all look better with beards. But recent research suggests that even if people are split over whether beards are attractive or not, men with them still hold the court as the measure of manliness, as well as commitment in relationships.
Researchers at the University of Silesia in Poland and University of Padova in Italy surveyed 400 men between the ages of 18-40, who wore a range of facial hair, about their “social motivations”. These men were given brief descriptions of “life goals” (such as “staying with a partner long term”, and “spending time with and helping parents and siblings”) to rate in terms of how much they valued them.
The researchers found that men with more facial hair were more likely to value keeping long-term partners and taking care of family than clean-shaven lads. This led the study’s designers to conclude: “[Men with beards] are likely to engage in the kind of prosocial ‘alpha’ behaviour that helps women fall in love with them and for other men to trust or fear them.”
Sounds like a bit of a stretch – but then again, I’m just a generic bald guy with a beard (still waiting for my “BGWAB summer”). As such, I’ve never really thought of my beard as immediately signalling anything about me, other than that I simply cannot be arsed to shave at the moment (although occasionally I do find myself drinking an oat milk latte and wearing a Carhartt beanie with a North Face jacket, and realise my beard has heralded an incoming gentrification apocalypse to the local area).
Such is the complexity of beards now that they can be anything from pejorative (neck beards, bearded hipster) to exalted (alpha male), all while the men sporting them look roughly the same.
It’s nice to pretend my beard signals some deep-rooted biological message, and I can dress like a lumberjack as much as I like – but, in reality, I type out words on a laptop for a living. I know I’ve often felt completely useless as a man when hunched over at my desk, hungover and struggling with some arbitrary deadline. That sense of being unable to adequately provide is often cited as the reason why so many men are depressed, listless and angry at nothing in particular.
It’s easy to grasp at shallow concepts of manliness (such as beards, which are far easier to grow than, say, a strong sense of purpose, good relationships or life satisfaction) during these times. “I should be out hunting for wild boars to bring back to my cave,” I think. (Someone else would have to kill and skin and cook the boar for me, of course, because I’d find that all quite gross.)
In such times, we are more conditioned than ever to want quick gains with minimum input. And what better way to gesture towards such an elusive concept as masculinity than to grow a thick, lustrous beard. I still get to eat my overnight oats and wear tracksuits, but at least now I look and feel a bit more manly doing it, with zero boar blood on my hands.
But I can’t help but wonder whether it’s all a bit meaningless. Grasping at the idea that facial hair can get you the type of life you want, or that it creates an impression about you that you wouldn’t be better off trying to make yourself, with your words and actions, is like opting for another useless armour in a time where dragons no longer need slaying and women are no longer damsels in distress. Like most of modern life, it’s all a strange cosplay. Everyone is to some degree pretending to be something they’re not, to overcompensate for insecurities that in all likelihood no one else even cares about.
Maybe that’s why modern women are looking for a rodent boyfriend as opposed to an alpha male. The old world is dying, and, as the new world struggles to be born, now is the time of rat boys.