I am no sociologist or historian or behaviourist or constitutional lawyer or any other kind of expert, for that matter. But, I have never let that stop me from expounding at length on any subject which might come up for discussion. The fact that I might know absolutely nothing about a thing will not slow me down for a second in explaining it to you.
I have always noticed this aspect about myself and about other men with whom I have had discussions over the past four decades. Lack of knowledge has never been considered a barrier to an analysis of a topic which might have come up, out of the blue.
For example, I might learn of the existence of a country – let’s call it, Percytovia – on a Thursday. On Friday, I might chance to read a short article about my newly discovered nation in a newspaper. Saturday night, I’ll be telling some guy at a party somewhere that the problem with the people of Percytovia is this: They have no appreciation of the democratic process. The average Percytovian thinks of his government as the natural provider of all he needs. Until this unfortunate attitude can be changed …
Now, I am soon, obviously, challenged by some other man who read the same article in the paper and who tells me it is not attitude, but geography which is defeating the good people of Percytovia.
[the_ad_placement id=”top-of-page”]
After a minute or two of the discussion, we are about to start smacking each other just above the ears over this when another man approaches to claim he knows someone who studied last year at the University of Percytovia and we are both out to lunch. Faced with someone with actual knowledge about the subject, my debater and I promptly drop the topic altogether and go back to criticizing politicians, taxes and greedy hockey players.
For years, I have wondered why I must immediately know something about everything even when I know I don’t know everything about anything. And why are most of the men I know struggling with the same obsession?
Now, at last, I know.
I suffer from an affliction known as Male Answer Syndrome, or MAS. The term has been coined to explain why men must always appear as if they have just spent the past year locked in a library studying the very topic that has just been raised for discussion at the dinner party. And why we’ll still be talking about it long after everyone else has drifted off to other parts of the room out of earshot of our lecturing voices.
As a rule, women don’t suffer from MAS. If they don’t know something about something, they’ll admit it. “Percytovia?” will ask the hostess as she passes around the drinks. “Never heard of him. Who was he? A composer?”
[the_ad_placement id=”top-of-page”]
I hesitate to say this, but I am convinced. Male Answer Syndrome most definitely does exist. Maybe all men don’t have it, but a lot of us do.
Now, it’s interesting that this subject should come up, because I was just reading an article on this not so very long ago. Male Answer Syndrome is a throwback to the prehistoric role of the male human as hunter and provider of the species, Homo Sapiens.
Take the early Percytovian Man, for example …
©1992 Jim Hagarty
