More Anthony Bourdain, Less Toxic Masculinity
Imperfect empathy instead of perfect toxicity
Yesterday, June 8th, was the anniversary of Anthony Bourdain’s death. It’s been 7 years. And some 3 years since I read and wrote about his famous book, Kitchen Confidential.
When I was in my early 20s, Anthony Bourdain became one of my heroes. I hadn’t even read his book at that point, but my good friend was reading it while we backpacked throughout Europe in 2010, so I felt like I had vicariously consumed it. Later on I devoured every episode of his television shows and eventually, many of his books.
He’s a big inspiration for some of the work I do on my YouTube Channel where I regularly celebrate different cultures and food. In many ways, Tony was the original travel vlogger. He had a unique way of using food as a vessel to connect us all. For him, food was a portal that invited us to explore our differences, solve our problems, and confront our troubled histories.
Food was political for Tony.
It was never overt or explicit, but his messages were clear. There’s a reason he shot a New York City episode in The Bronx, not inside the fine dining halls of his best friend Eric Ripert’s Le Bernadin. There’s a reason he ate at a humble restaurant with plastic stools and bottled beer with President Barack Obama in Hanoi, Vietnam.
Anthony Bourdain was always trying to make a point. He encouraged his audience to embrace new cultures and celebrate what makes us different or unique. He loved to highlight beauty or creativity in a place that may be misunderstood or have a bad reputation.
But Tony wasn’t perfect. Anyone who has read his books or watched his shows knows that he’s a bit of a bad boy with irreverent jokes and the occasional serving of misogyny. At the same time though, Tony was capable of tremendous empathy. This Medium story, for example, is impressive self-reflection and regret during the Me Too movement of the late 2010s, shortly before his passing.
To the extent which my work in Kitchen Confidential celebrated or prolonged a culture that allowed the kind of grotesque behaviors we’re hearing about all too frequently is something I think about daily, with real remorse.
- Anthony Bourdain
Can you imagine some of the male celebrities and influencers in 2025 producing this degree of remorse and self-reflection?
In a world of Donald Trumps and Elon Musks, be Anthony Bourdain. Maybe not perfect, and yes, maybe a little crude and spicy at times, but at his core a genuine person with a warm heart.
What many male influencers and celebrities today lack is something Tony had in excess — empathy. Elon Musk has blamed empathy for the downfall of western civilization. Donald Trump never admits when he’s wrong, always doubling-down when he hurts people, even when juries find him at fault for sexual abuse.
Tony never demonized immigrants or migrants who were searching for a better life. Instead, he would go to their homes and hometowns and break bread with them. He tried to understand people, their struggles, and what drove their passions.
As I wrote in this essay about his book, Kitchen Confidential:
The guy running the sauté station or the one sweating over the flaming grill is likely Ecuadorian, Mexican, or some other Latin American nationality. Tony honors and respects these people immensely. Based on his descriptions of the physical (and mental) toll cooking takes, it’s understandable why he holds anyone who can hang in a professional kitchen in such high regard.
Tony respected anyone who worked hard and had passion. It didn’t matter who they were or where they were from in the world. He wanted to hear their stories, and for Tony, food was one of the best ways to draw those stories out.
Who can honestly resist revealing some deep truths over a plate of delicious food made with love? Especially after seeing or hearing the story of that food, the techniques used to make it, or its importance to the people in a particular community.
Anthony Bourdain’s empathetic and open-minded worldview is the type of male influence we need amidst the toxic masculinity that permeates society today. The fact he was a bit edgy and punk rock was a good thing — too much of our modern culture has been sanitized in political correctness, opening the door for extremists to occupy space once reserved for well-intentioned men who occasionally misspoke or simply told a joke.
My version of Anthony Bourdain from 2010 has been replaced by the likes of Joe Rogan, Jordan Peterson, and Andrew Tate. These are the men many 20-somethings today look up to and consume. They’ve become “cool” in modern culture for rarely if ever admitting fault, blaming others, and spreading conspiracies mixed with fear and hate.
For a generation of young men who have struggled to come of age, it’s understandable why so many revere this new breed of male influencers. Empathy is seen as weakness. Equality is a power grab designed to disadvantage white men. Immigrants have taken their jobs.
Many of these “alpha” male influencers talk tough, aggressive, and hypermasculine. They rarely (if ever) show empathy, compassion, or an ability to think critically or nuanced on a complex issue.
- from my story, Young Men Are Not Alright
While Anthony Bourdain may fail some unreasonably stringent moral purity tests, he possessed what many men today lack — empathy, compassion, and critical thinking. Had more men possessed these traits over the past few years, we may not be witnessing the modern rise of autocracies globally and in America. Had more young men grown up listening to someone like Tony instead of Joe Rogan, they may be searching for compassionate stories told through food, not conspiracy theories told between advertisements for brain supplements.
The best thing we can do now is find the next generation of men who have the empathetic and open-minded worldview of Anthony Bourdain. Who view women as equals. Who fight for the rights of immigrants and migrants. Who demand empathy, compassion, and critical thinking from their peers.
What we cannot do is expect these men to be perfect. There must be room for jokes. Silliness. The spice of life. A little punk rock. And no judgment for ending dinner with coffee and a cigarette instead of dessert.
If we demand moral purity from men, we only risk silencing the good guys. And when guys like Anthony Bourdain disappear, bad actors with no moral qualms fill the void and influence the culture.
We should all prefer a world of imperfect empathy instead of perfect toxicity.
For some positive masculinity, here’s how I fixed a clogged drain in our apartment bathroom:
Make sure to check out some of the latest stories from The Political Prism!
Have a good week.
I’m not sure we find men with more empathy. We have to raise them to be that way, and society has clearly been doing the opposite—especially with white men who have felt dismissed, left behind, like they don’t matter. And yeah, how do you change that when you have these big personalities you mentioned, along with people like Tim Denning, Dan Koe and Justin Welsh, who don’t exactly lead with empathy but have huge influence.
I love using food as a love language, too.
Tony gave us permission to love the world as it is.
He didn't flinch from the hard stuff, and he didn't hide his flaws. That's what made him unique.
Happy Monday from anarchist California! 🙂