The Good Men Project

Talking about "goodness" is nearly impossible to pin down. With so many men in the public eye called out for bad behavior, from the very start "good" has been our company's cross to bear.

The fit between feminism and fathering has become a taken-for-granted part of my work and my life. But I was recently forced to rethink this combination as I followed a debate between men's rights activists (MRAs) and their critics.

We polled political observers across the country, scouring our nation for that one thing that public opinion seems to be sure was lost: a good man politician.

Good men know that women writing about women getting hurt is not a statement that men are never hurt. It's not a statement that women are all perfect. It's simply a statement about stopping violence against women.

I firmly believe that "goodness" is like faith--I shouldn't tell you what yours should look like, and you shouldn't tell me what mine should look like.

From the very beginning, I said that ten percent of men will "get" the Good Men Project right away, ten percent will never get it, and eighty percent will need convincing.

I've tried yoga and therapy, but when it comes to getting centered, nothing compares to cuddling with my kids.

We asked famous men (and average Joes) to answer the question, "From which of your mistakes did you learn the most?" Here's what they said.

No the only reason I know any of my adolescent children's sexual explorations is because they choose Elena as the one adult in the world they could trust to give them each advice.

The more I try to look closely at what it means to be a good man in America the more I come back to role of sex in our culture.

Gamer skills, it turns out, have a key role to play not only in fighting the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan but also in healing the wounded.

Honestly I didn't want to go. Panel discussions are not my bag. I had to fly all the way across the country from Boston to LA. And it so happened that I would miss my daughter's first prom.

I'm not afraid to say, "I love you." I live in a home with four women--my wife and three daughters --and they've taught me about romance, affection, etc.

As a man, I was saved by the realization, 14 years ago now, that despite a painful divorce, I wanted to be a father to my two baby children.

I felt the air travel in and out of my lungs. I was no longer holding my breath. I imagined myself reading Go, Dog, Go! to my children.

Dad is perhaps the smartest man I have ever known, having graduated from Princeton, Oxford, and Yale. But he has to arrange the chairs in a certain way at family gatherings.

To me, manhood and goodness are not about getting it right from the get-go. They are about making mistakes -- big mistakes -- and then figuring out what the hell you're going to do about it.

That's what I was thinking about as I drove Seamus up the hill. I tried to remember the last time I had talked to my dad about anything of real importance. And I couldn't remember.

Aren't we sick of these stories? Do I really care about the status of Charlie Sheen's recovery? What I do care a lot about is the state of the average American guy. And for him, I am pretty darned concerned.

In moments of self-imposed hatred, I see my son's baby blues. Nothing else matters. All concern drops. Where does that light come from?

John Edwards, Tiger Woods, Jesse James, and our obsession with their bad behavior, are a symptom of a much deeper problem that the Groundhog Day feel of the news should shake us all to consider.