The Democratic Party must join the battle for the hearts and minds of young men. It matters not just for this election, though the vast and growing gender gap means that disaffected men could hand Donald Trump the presidency. It matters for how we mentor young men, and it matters for how we view masculinity itself.

And yes, the Democrats can do it. Within the Kamala Harris coalition, there are men who can show a better way.

If you ever wondered whether the Republican Party sees itself as the party of men, I’d invite you to re-watch the last night of the Republican National Convention. Prime time featured a rousing speech by wrestling legend Hulk Hogan, a song by Kid Rock and a speech by Dana White, CEO of the Ultimate Fighting Championship — all as warm-up acts before Trump delivered his acceptance speech. Republican manliness was the capstone of the convention.

But what kind of men were featured? They’re all rich and powerful, and as a longtime fan of professional wrestling, I loved watching Hogan as a kid, but none of them are the kind of man I’d want my son to be. White was caught on video slapping his wife. Kid Rock has his own checkered past, including a sex tape and an assault charge related to a fight in a Nashville, Tennessee, strip club. Hogan faced his own sex scandal after he had a bizarre sexual relationship with a woman who was married to one of his close friends, a radio host who goes by “Bubba the Love Sponge.”

We know all about Trump, but it’s worth remembering some of his worst moments — including a jury finding that he was liable for sexual abuse, his defamation of his sex-abuse victim, the “Access Hollywood” tape and the countless examples of his cruelly insulting the women he so plainly hates.

JD Vance is different. No one should denigrate his personal story. He has overcome great adversity, served his country honorably as a Marine and, by all accounts, is a good husband and father. But he now wears Trumpist masculinity like an ill-fitting suit. Last week, he was justifiably attacked for a 2021 interview with Tucker Carlson in which he declared that the country is run, “via the Democrats, via our corporate oligarchs, by a bunch of childless cat ladies.” He identified Harris (who has two stepchildren) as just the kind of person he was talking about.

For a brief period last week, I thought Harris might answer the Trumpists with a man who puts to shame every person who took the stage that Thursday night. She was reportedly considering Adm. William McRaven — a Navy SEAL, a former commander of U.S. Special Operations Command and one of the key architects of Operation Neptune Spear, the mission to kill Osama bin Laden — as a potential running mate.

He quickly pulled himself out of consideration, saying that “there are far better candidates” for the position. Politically, he’s probably right. Realpolitik requires picking a politician who can help carry key swing states, but McRaven still matters. His ideas matter. His comportment and bearing matter. What he says matters. And Democrats should embrace McRaven’s conception of how to live as a direct contradiction of Trumpist masculinity.

It’s not just McRaven, of course. There are other good and brave men who’ve rejected MAGA. Whether I’m speaking of Sen. Mark Kelly of Arizona, a former fighter pilot and astronaut, or Mark Hertling, my former division commander in Iraq, who is a Biden appointee to the American Battle Monuments Commission and a leading proponent of Ukraine’s cause, or James Mattis, a former secretary of defense who did his best to serve Trump honorably but could not abide Trump’s disloyalty to our allies.

But I highlight McRaven for a reason; he has perfectly articulated how to attack MAGA masculinity. Ten years ago, he gave one of the most powerful commencement speeches in recent American history. He addressed the graduates of the University of Texas, Austin, and three YouTube versions have racked up more than 70 million views combined.

It’s known — oddly enough — as the “Make Your Bed” speech. While it wasn’t aimed only at men, every person who forwarded it to me was a man. It appealed to universal values, but it connected with men I know at a deep and profound level.

McRaven draws on his SEAL training to teach students how to change the world. It begins with the small things, like accomplishing that tiny first task of making your bed, because “if you can’t do the little things right, you’ll never be able to do the big things right.”

Each new principle is rooted in his experience, including, “If you want to change the world, measure a person by the size of their heart, not by the size of their flippers.” Here’s one that’s particularly salient in the face of Trumpist bullying: “If you want to change the world, don’t back down from the sharks.”

The address builds to a conclusion that is alien to Trumpist masculinity: “Start each day with a task completed. Find someone to help you through life. Respect everyone. Know that life is not fair and that you will fail often. But if you take some risks, step up when the times are the toughest, face down the bullies, lift up the downtrodden and never, ever give up — if you do these things, the next generation and the generations that follow will live in a world far better than the one we have today.”

You can see the contrast. Trumpist masculinity is rooted in grievance and anger. McRaven’s message centers on honor and courage.

There’s a seductive quality to Trump’s masculinity. Grievance is a form of counterfeit purpose, and anger is a form of counterfeit courage. For a time, your grievance can give you a mission — fighting the hated foe. And when you’re in the midst of an online temper tantrum, taking on all comers in your social media feed, you can feel a little bit brave, even if all you’re doing is tapping out vitriolic posts from the safety and comfort of your couch.

When you center masculinity on grievance and anger rather than honor and courage, you attract men like Hogan and Kid Rock and White. Worse, that is how you mold the men in your movement, including men like Vance.

Many conservatives rightly decry the way in which parts of the far left tend to use the words “straight white male” as a virtual epithet, as if there were something inherently suspect in the identities of tens of millions of men and boys. And if men feel that Democrats are hostile to them, they’ll go where they feel wanted, the gender gap will become a gender canyon, and more men will embrace Trumpism because that’s just what men do.

But that’s the masculine equivalent of a sugar high. For solid food, look not to Hulk Hogan. Look to William McRaven. It’s often said, and I generally agree, that politics is downstream of culture, but we also cannot ignore the cultural power of our politicians. We aren’t simply electing women and men; we’re electing role models, and Trump has unquestionably been a role model for countless men. He has molded not just the policies but also the ethos of the Republican Party. But America’s men need different role models and a different ethos.

I’m not the only person who sees this need. At The Atlantic, my friend, Tom Nichols (who’s also written about the dangers of Trumpist masculinity), argues that men like Kelly, Gov. Josh Shapiro of Pennsylvania, Gov. Andy Beshear of Kentucky and Gov. Roy Cooper of North Carolina also offer better models for men than Trump, and Nichols is right.

But let’s return for the moment to the Navy SEAL who served his country for decades, who helped kill one of America’s deadliest foes and who declared to American college graduates, “You must have compassion. You must ache for the poor and disenfranchised. You must fear for the vulnerable. You must weep for the ill and infirm. You must pray for those who are without hope. You must be kind to the less fortunate.”

This might sound strange, but I wonder if Democrats should answer the Republican men’s night with a men’s night of their own — a night that features heroes instead of bullies and showmen, a night that answers the Republican appeal to men’s basest instincts with an appeal to their highest ideals.

When Vance says, “Our people hate the right people,” that’s the language of grievance and anger. But there’s a better way for men — for all of us. It’s rooted in honor, courage and love. Or as McRaven put it, “For what hero gives so much of themselves without caring for those they are trying to save?”

David French joined The New York Times as an Opinion columnist in January 2023. Before that, he was a senior editor at The Dispatch, which he helped start, and a contributing writer at The Atlantic. He spent most of his career as a practicing lawyer, working in commercial and constitutional litigation. In his late 30s, he joined the United States Army Reserve as a judge advocate general. David deployed to Iraq in 2007 and served in Diyala Province, where he was awarded a Bronze Star. He is a former president of the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression. He lives in Franklin, Tenn.