Masculinity may be in crisis, but save us from New Man, pleads Theodore Dalrymple

What are men for? This is the question that torments Professor Anthony Clare throughout his newly published book, On Men: masculinity in crisis. They have ceased to be the principal breadwinners, and they are increasingly redundant from the biological point of view. Not only has sex been divorced from reproduction, but - more radically - reproduction has been divorced from sex. With cloning and parthenogenesis just around the corner, a society composed entirely of females becomes a distinct possibility. So, if men are economically unnecessary and biologically de trop, what are they for?

It is a sign of the times that such a silly question should exercise anyone's mind, let alone that of an eminent and intelligent man. And, as every child used to be told, if you ask a silly question, you get a silly answer.

In an odd kind of way, this debate signals a return to Victorian ideas about the sexuality of women. Victorian writers on the subject assumed that, except in pathological cases, women were too pure to have sexual needs or feelings: they were like wind instruments upon which men briefly piped their tune.

And the question "What are men for?" assumes that, given the choice, most women would live and reproduce free of contact or association with males. In other words, only the exercise of raw power, physical and economic, causes women to have anything to do with men.

This is clearly not the case, even when women's experience of men is wholly unpleasant. Even repeatedly abused women still seek out male company. The continual triumph of hope over experience is one of the most salient features of humankind, and preserves it from utter despair. And the reality is that most women without men are lonely, as are most men without women.

According to Clare, however, it is men's loss of status and their sense of being needed in the world that cause them to behave badly. Much of the male aggression in contemporary society is a compensatory mechanism for an awareness of their increasing redundancy or unimportance, he thinks.

Somewhat sheepishly, however, Clare admits that the empirical evidence suggests that there might be some small place for men in the world. After all, the lot of the single mother is not, in general, a happy one, and increases in public support are unlikely to alter this. What is more, there is evidence that the children of single mothers suffer. Could it be, then, that men are, if not quite standard family fittings, optional extras worthy of serious consideration? But then, if men are both desirable and ghastly, what can be done about it?

The answer is the New Man. Clare sets up a dual typology of men that is oddly reminiscent of the Madonna-whore archetypes that are said to exist in the minds of men with regard to women.

On the one hand is the Old Man, rugby-playing, beer-swilling, career-orientated, inarticulate, unfeeling, close to a rapist in his sexual activities. And on the other hand is the New Man.

What is he like, exactly, this New Man? As is usual with blueprints for the future, the outlines are a little blurred, but he seems to resemble a certain well-known public figure, Anthony Blair.

The New Man, unlike the Old, is caring and unselfish. He is profoundly affected by the plight of the natives of the left bank of the Borioboola-Gha. Indeed, he can hardly sleep for worry about it. And when he speaks, or even thinks, of it, his face takes on a look of personal suffering: for what is the point of suffering unless someone else knows about it?

The New Man recognises his vulnerabilities and is emotionally incontinent. He speaks fluently about what he is feeling: so fluently, in fact, that it is amazing he has any time left over to feel anything. He is deeply moved by events such as the death of Diana, Princess of Wales, and believes in concepts such as personal growth. He believes in warm and wonderful human beings. He wants to love, and be loved by, everyone equally.

The New Man is a good father. And what is a good father? According to Clare, fathers look after their own health, which presumably means becoming as obsessed with their bowel movements as was my grandmother. Fathers "should hug their children" - that is to say, they should belong to the infamous Hug Culture in which people believe there is no harm that cannot be prevented, and no injury that cannot be healed, by a little hugging.

And, while hugging their children, fathers should tell their children that they are great, whatever their actual conduct. They should also do what their children want them to do, without passing judgement on the particularities of the case. Fathers should not only speak of their emotions openly, but also do something about their relationship difficulties. They should seek professional help because, as we know, professional help has proved so spectacularly successful in solving the world's problems. The principal cause of unhappiness in the world, after all, is an insufficiency of professional help.

If one were to translate the prescription for the New Man into culinary terms, it would be blancmange, that extraordinary confection that lacks savour, consistency and nutritional value: a combination of lack of qualities that is by no means easy to achieve.

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