Published on 30 March, 2026
At a Glance:
It’s a question that has echoed across conversations, podcasts, and group chats:
“Where have all the good men gone?”
Sometimes it’s said jokingly. Other times, the question carries pain, frustration, and exhaustion.
Beneath it lies a longing for men who are dependable, emotionally present, kind, humble, courageous, and self-aware – men who take responsibility, lead with integrity, and love well.
For me, this question didn’t start in adulthood.
It whispered first when I was a little girl living with an alcoholic father.
I still remember waking up to the sharp stench of alcohol seeping through our tiny rental HDB flat, the walls thin, the fear familiar.
Every night, I prayed for quietness. Every morning, I wondered which version of my father I would I be getting that day.
The echo grew louder the night my parents had one of their many shouting matches.
Afterwards, my mother said softly, “He looked like he wanted to hit me… but at least he didn’t.”
I didn’t know much about love, but I knew enough to ask:
Is this what a man is supposed to be?
Is this what love looks like?
As I grew older, the echoes followed me.
When I heard boys in school talk about girls like objects. When stories of cheating became more common than stories of commitment. When friends cried not for romance, but for basic decency.
Piece by piece, it felt like the world was proving that the painful narrative I had formed in my mind was real. Maybe “good men” really are disappearing or are rare Pokemons to be found in distant places.
Maybe “good men” really are disappearing or are rare and Pokemons to be found in distant places.
But thankfully, life has brought me something I didn’t expect. The evidence that good men still exist. Men who were kind, humble, intentional. Men who showed up. Men who healed instead of hurt.
I saw it in my youth leader, who championed the young women he led, guiding them, cheering for them, and treating them with dignity.
I saw it in the male friends I grew up with, now becoming husbands and fathers, building homes marked by tenderness and responsibility.
I saw it in my friend’s husband, who opened their home for me to stay during a difficult season.
Watching how he loved and respected my friend gave me a front-row seat to a healthy marriage.
I saw it in my own husband, who has loved me carefully and selflessly, even when my old wounds made it harder to do so.
And I saw it in my godfather, who offered my husband and I his small studio apartment to live in while we waited for our flat to be ready – generosity without hesitation, support without condition.
Through all these men, I realised something important: Good men aren’t “gone.”
They were there.
Often quiet.
Often unseen.
Often not trending.
But they existed. The problem wasn’t extinction. It was visibility.
Good men rarely go viral. They are not dramatic. They are not chaotic. They don’t create spectacle. They show up consistently. They build slowly. They choose responsibility over applause.
And consistency doesn’t always make good headlines.
Somewhere along the way, our culture became very skilled at spotlighting male failure, and very slow at celebrating male faithfulness.
When men fail, it becomes proof that “men are the problem.”
When men love well, it’s often treated as the bare minimum.
But what if we’ve underestimated the quiet power of affirmation?
I’m not saying women are responsible for fixing men.
And I’m certainly not suggesting we excuse abuse, immaturity, or irresponsibility.
But I am asking a gentler question: If we long for good men, how are we responding when we see them?
Do we honour integrity when it appears?
Do we encourage emotional growth when it feels awkward and imperfect?
Do we create space for men to admit weakness without shaming them for it?
But what if we’ve underestimated the quiet power of affirmation?
Because here’s something I’ve had to learn the hard way: Many men are trying but they are trying in a world that often assumes the worst about them.
Boys grow up hearing that masculinity is toxic. Men grow up feeling that vulnerability is weakness. Husbands grow up afraid that if they fail once, they’ll be defined by it forever.
When my husband chooses patience in a tense moment, I try to say it out loud:
“I see how you handled that. Thank you.” When a male friend takes responsibility for his mistakes, I honour it instead of weaponising it later. When I see fathers playing gently with their children, I celebrate it.
Affirmation does not inflate ego; it reinforces identity. It calls out and names what is good and praiseworthy. And people tend to grow in the direction of what is recognised.
If all a boy grows up hearing that men are unreliable, immature, or unsafe, he may begin to lose faith in himself.
But if he hears,
“I see the good in you,”
“I trust your leadership,”
“I believe you can do better,”
something steady and hopeful begins to form within them.
Again, this does not mean tolerating harm. Boundaries are meant to be respected. Accountability is necessary.
But encouragement is a powerful, yet lost practice.
The little girl in that tiny rental flat grew up believing men were unpredictable and dangerous.
The woman I am now knows something different.
And I hope we become the kind of women, friends, wives, sisters, mothers, who recognise, nurture, and celebrate goodness when we see it.
Not because men need applause for basic decency.
But because culture shifts when what is good is made visible.
Good men aren’t gone.
They are being built – in homes, in churches, in friendships, in marriages, in quiet unseen places.
Or sometimes they’re just waiting to be seen.
The Family Future Makers programme provides development opportunities for young leaders who are keen to contribute as active citizens to uphold family values as foundational to nation-building in Singapore. Registration for our 2026 run of Family Future Makers is open! Register here: https://www.famchamps.sg/FFM2026.
Nelson and Gina
Workshop: March 2026
Nelson and Gina Lee have been accredited facilitators with Focus on the Family Singapore for over a decade, beginning their involvement conducting relationship talks for tertiary students since 2011.
Driven by a passion for nurturing strong relationships, they have extensive experience in facilitating dating workshops for courting couples and pre-marital programmes for those considering marriage. They have also have led marriage retreats designed to deepen connection and commitment among married couples.
