David Brooks, in his book The Second Mountain, makes a radical claim: the pursuit of individual freedom, success, and self-expression is only the first mountain of life. It can be exhilarating, yes. We climb towards career success, independence, and financial stability.

But there’s a second mountain, often discovered in midlife, where the view is clearer: the mountain of commitment, service, community, and connection. And Brooks’ argument is bracing. The second mountain is the one that truly matters.

Why? Because the first mountain, built on personal achievement, can only ever satisfy part of us. Success without service, freedom without responsibility, wealth without relationship, they leave us oddly empty. The second mountain reminds us that a meaningful life isn’t defined by what we take, but by what we give.

And this is where men, particularly those navigating the tricky transition out of corporate life or into their later years, have an opportunity (maybe even a responsibility?) to step into roles that help build community.

The problem with freedom (and why Brooks is right)

In some aspects of modern western culture, especially the burgeoning idea of the sovereign individual, we have been sold freedom as the ultimate prize: freedom from obligations, from authority, from limits. The idea is intoxicating. And for sure there is an important element of freedom to be found, for example, in financial independence so we can provide for ourselves and our loved ones. But what if freedom isn’t enough? 

Brooks writes: “Freedom is not an ultimate good. Freedom is a means. It is only a tool for the accomplishment of something greater: character, purpose, community.”

The irony is that when we cling too tightly to individual freedom, we often find ourselves more isolated and more restless than ever. The rise in loneliness, disconnection, and what men navigating midlife sometimes quietly confess as a “lack of meaning” isn’t a coincidence.

It’s the consequence of freedom without responsibility. The antidote is not less freedom, but a new orientation toward community and commitment.

Billy Bragg and a progressive form of patriotism

This is where Billy Bragg’s book titled The Progressive Patriot offers a beautifully complementary voice. Bragg’s argument is that belonging matters. To be rooted in a place, to care for neighbours, to serve others. This is patriotism not as flag-waving, but as stewardship. 

Bragg reminds us that community is the soil from which pride grows. “At some point in your life you have to engage with the fact that you are part of a society.” You can’t feel proud of your hometown or your country if you don’t feel connected to your street. Patriotism, in this sense, is a verb, not a noun. It’s something you do. For men navigating midlife especially, this framing is powerful. But where and how to start? 

ABCD – the assets we already have

Community development thinker Cormac Russell puts this into practice through ABCD: Asset-Based Community Development. His philosophy is simple but profound. He challenges each of us to consider not what is wrong with our community. but what is strong. We don’t engage with communities by cataloguing their deficits. We start by observing and mapping their assets. 

That means instead of asking, “What’s missing in our neighbourhood?”, we might instead ask, “What do we already have here? Who has skills, time, tools, knowledge? How can we connect these assets?” We might then come together to figure out how we might put these skills and tools to good use. 

The results can be remarkable. A street with ten isolated households can, through ABCD, become a network of shared child-care, collective gardening, and skill-swapping. It can be the start of a farmer’s market and local celebration. And the best part is that none of this requires big government policy or corporate sponsorship. It simply requires neighbours noticing each other.

For men, this is an empowering shift. We don’t need to be wealthy or politically connected to contribute. We just need to be willing. Each of us have assets. We carry skills, humour, muscle, and knowledge that can strengthen the communities we live in right now. We just have to pay attention. 

Practical ways men can engage (without making it weird)

So how does this look in practice? Here are some starting points that fit naturally with how many men already operate:

1. Sporting Clubs – Whether it’s coaching a junior football team, umpiring cricket, or helping maintain the local pitch, sport is one of the most natural gateways for men into community life. And it’s intergenerational. Kids learn, men mentor, traditions are passed down.
   
   
2. Fetes and Festivals – You don’t need to run the cake stall (though go on, surprise yourself). Helping set up marquees, running BBQs, or managing parking might not sound glamorous, but these are the glue jobs that make community events thrive.
   
   
3. Farmers’ Markets and Local Food – Many towns now have monthly markets. Men are often key to logistics (think tables, stalls, cooking). But markets also become meeting points: places to chat, buy from local producers, and create that small-town hum of life.
   
   
4. Community Repair Cafés – Got a knack for fixing bikes, sharpening knives, or tinkering with electronics? There’s a movement of community repair groups where people bring broken household items, and volunteers fix them for free. This is practical masculinity at its best.
   
   
5. Mentoring and Skills Sharing – Retired engineer? Former accountant? Ex-teacher? There are kids, start-ups, and community groups who’d give their right arm for your experience. Formal mentoring programs exist, but informal “coffee and advice” is just as powerful.
   
   
6. Walking Groups and Men’s Sheds – These are quietly revolutionary. Walking groups combat isolation while promoting health; Men’s Sheds offer space to build, repair, and chat without pressure. The act of “doing something with your hands” opens the door to conversations men might not otherwise have.

Why men and why now

Of course, community building is for everyone. But men in particular face a crisis of connection in midlife. Friendships shrink, family commitments change, careers plateau or end. Without proactive engagement, it’s easy for men to slip into loneliness and purposelessness.

But men also bring huge untapped energy to community. Physicality, humour, skills, mentoring instincts. All are desperately needed. And, perhaps most importantly, men often need other men to model what community engagement looks like. If you’ve never seen your dad or mates volunteer, you might assume it’s not “for you.” The truth is, it’s exactly for you.

From “what’s wrong” to “what’s strong”

When Brooks, Bragg, and Russell are read together, a pattern emerges:

• Brooks says individualism isn’t enough, commitment gives life meaning.
  
  
• Bragg says belonging build’s identity—patriotism is community pride, not isolationist fear.
  
  
• Russell says communities already have assets—our job is to notice and connect them. 

Together, they call us away from a deficit mindset. They challenge a prevailing media narrative that everything is broken. They gently insist we ask ourselves instead: what’s already strong here, in my community? And how can I make it stronger?

The BBQ test

Think about the last time you stood around a BBQ with mates. It wasn’t the meat (burnt as it might have been) that gave the moment value. It was the easy conversation, the shared purpose, the laughter about who forgot the tongs. Community is basically a permanent BBQ. The tasks are simple, but the meaning is profound.

The joke, of course, is that men often tell themselves they don’t have time. But scroll through your phone history. How much time is given to doom-scrolling or watching “just one more” Netflix episode? That time could be the difference between being a consumer of community and a contributor to it.

Community matters

So, here’s the challenge:

• Stop waiting for someone else.
  
  
• Don’t dismiss yourself as “not the community type.”
  
  
• Start small, commit lightly, and see what grows. 

It could be joining a Shed, coaching a team, turning up at the market, or offering to fix a neighbour’s leaky tap. Because the truth is, your second mountain is waiting. And unlike the first, this mountain isn’t about conquering. It’s about belonging.

Final word

Community engagement trumps individual freedom not because freedom is bad, but because freedom alone is incomplete. We are not designed to live as consumers of life, but as contributors to one another’s flourishing. 

Men have an especially important role here: not just as volunteers, but as visible models of what belonging looks like in action. When we show up, pitch in, and stay, we create ripples. And we combat the looming sense of disconnection and isolation as we navigate the complex transition of midlife.  

Because that’s what community and a sense of belonging looks like. Men at barbecues, on football fields, in sheds, at markets. It comes from us choosing to climb that second mountain, together.

So, get out there, get involved, and don’t let the old man in.