--- title: "Measuring masculinity" date: "2026-06-18T06:23:00+01:00" modified: "2026-06-03T22:24:53+01:00" url: "https://newhumanist.org.uk/articles/measuring-masculinity/" post_id: 10575 --- # Measuring masculinity ![](https://newhumanist.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/06/NewHumanistTestosterone-1200x1079.jpg)It can’t just be me, can it? Everywhere I turn, there seem to be adverts for some product or service relating to testosterone. It feels impossible to ride the London Underground without an advert suggesting I might want to get my t-levels tested. The internet is, if anything, worse. Where once I just got ads for dodgy cryptocurrency sites and spread betting, whatever that is, now I see endless videos claiming that low testosterone is probably to blame for all of my woes. Getting the right amount could, they variously promise, stop brain fog and give me focus, more energy, a higher sex drive and more muscle with less fat. Male influencers are all over it. Steven Bartlett, of *Dragon’s Den* and *Diary of a CEO* fame, has repeatedly discussed with podcast guests the benefits of getting your t-levels up (often through natural means, like getting more sleep or upping your zinc intake). Venture capitalist and influencer Karl Mehta posts threads on X promising that “testosterone is more than a sex hormone. It builds muscle, burns fat, and sharpens your focus. But modern life is killing it … quietly and daily.” Even Joe Rogan, the world’s most successful podcaster and the (relatively) acceptable face of the manosphere is a believer. “Hormone replacement therapy, I started doing all that when I was 40,” he says in one often-shared clip. And “there’s a stigma attached to that. A lot of people are like ‘where do you get your testosterone from, I get it from my balls hur hur hur’. All that matters is you have it in your system. If you don’t have it in your system, you’re not gonna feel as good.” Testosterone is the primary male sex hormone, produced – as the name suggests – in the testes (though women produce a small amount in their ovaries). It’s vital for male sexual function, but also plays a role in muscle and bone development, and many of the changes associated with masculine presentation – such as body hair or a deepening voice. It can be artificially supplemented with man-made hormones (once referred to as steroids), which are used by the trans community, and which have long been abused by athletes looking for an edge. But this is the first time I’ve ever noticed adverts for the stuff. Of course, maybe it *is* just me. Online adverts are targeted, after all, and I am on the verge of turning 40 – an age at which many of us start to worry about feeling tired all the time, less energetic and less focused. Maybe I’m just suddenly finding myself in a target market I wasn’t in before. But as soon as I start asking around, almost everyone I mention it to – men and women alike – says they’ve noticed the ads as well. Is this the dawn of a new era of health-consciousness for men? Is it related to the supposed crisis of masculinity we’re caught in? What, exactly, is going on with testosterone? The test -------- I realise I am, inevitably, going to have to get my own levels checked. Not only in order to write this piece, but also because the second I start deliberately watching the videos, I have an almost desperate need to know. A quick search reveals I can buy a “male hormone test” from Randox – a name I saw all too often during the era of endless Covid testing – for £33 via Amazon, with 24-hour delivery. Sold. Getting tested is simple, at least in theory. You take a prick of blood from your finger, send it off for analysis through the post, and get your results back a few days later. Like any responsible gay man, I’m used to regular STD testing, which requires you to do these fingerprick tests a few times a year. I figure that I’m an old hand at this. It’s going to be easy. With hindsight, the long list of instructions on the packet should have been a warning. The pack gives extensive detail as to how to prepare: drink lots of water before testing, take a warm bath, and immediately before pricking your finger windmill your arm to keep the blood flowing. There are further instructions on how to massage your finger to get the most blood out of it. When I see the vial, it becomes clear why. Unlike other tests that need a drop or two of blood, this requires a serious amount. I will spare the full gory details to avoid losing the squeamish reader, but after a painful five minutes my bathroom seems to have blood absolutely everywhere except in the tiny-necked vial I was supposed to fill. Eventually, after pricking and milking two fingers until they are bruised, I fill the tube and decide to abandon the massacre site that used to be my bathroom. My fingers are so painful that I can’t even type with my right hand for the next three days, in what must surely be my stupidest work-related injury to date. Getting tested has, so far, not done much to boost my sense of masculinity. Still, the sample is sent and there are some upsides to the debacle. I have complained at such length in various WhatsApp groups I’m in that I’ve set off conversations about testosterone and the seemingly relentless ads for it among different groups of friends. Worth the cost? --------------- One of them, Tim, drops me a direct message mentioning he’s been on testosterone replacement therapy – TRT – for two years, after a friend recommended he get tested because he’d been complaining about low energy. His results came back at 13.2nmol of testosterone per litre of blood – technically on the low side of normal (the threshold for “low” varies but is typically set between 8 and 12nmol/l), but nonetheless low enough that the private healthcare provider was happy to prescribe him the hormone. Tim, a man in his early 30s who asked to be called by his first name only, hoped the treatment would boost his energy and mood. “And then the other \[factor\] was that I have been in and out of the gym since I was about 17, often falling off the exercise wagon for long periods and finding it hard to stay motivated. I figured that TRT would mean I would see my body respond – in strength, size, etc – more quickly to effort, and that would keep me motivated to keep going.” He feels that, broadly speaking, the TRT has done exactly that, including helping him keep his motivation to exercise at a time of major upheaval, including the loss of both of his parents within a year. The physical and psychological effects are well worth the £100-and-something a month it costs, he says. He jokes that there have been other effects he wasn’t looking for but isn’t sorry about: he has more facial and body hair now. He feels more comfortable and happier in his “masculine presentation”. “We sometimes call it my gender affirming care in our household, or I refer to myself and anyone who does bodybuilding as male-to-male trans,” he jokes, adding, “usually in front of trans friends, \[so\] they know I’m really woke.” “A puberty-like rush” --------------------- Tim is probably the stereotypical target market for TRT. But I quickly realise testosterone is being taken by people far beyond this group. A female friend mentions she’s about to start on testosterone as a treatment for perimenopause. This is typically an off-label use, prescribed alongside traditional hormone replacement therapy, which focuses on oestrogen, sometimes with progestogen. Such use of testosterone is backed up by some serious scientific studies, which have found outcomes similar to those in men (improved mood, concentration, motivation and energy levels). Another associate, who asked to go by the name of Séverin for this piece, defines himself as transmasc genderqueer and has been on testosterone for decades, since he was 40. Starting on testosterone is a major and often much-anticipated milestone for many trans men, accelerating their masculine presentation and bringing about physical changes. At present, testosterone treatment for adolescents on the NHS is suspended in the wake of the Cass review, while adults face punishingly long waits. Though Séverin started late, in middle age, the effects were profound. After an initial almost puberty-like rush that saw him build up a brief and intense interest in construction (and construction workers), he says, it quietly transformed his life. “I wouldn’t have had a teenage male puberty, so I didn’t go through that first round of what that was like,” he says. “So to have that at the later age as an adult is definitely different … there were issues like smell, sweat, some acne, but it was also like the smell could also be noticeable by others, a bit like a pheromone in an aftershave or a scent … But then there was more growing into myself in terms of a liberation – in terms of greater confidence, greater sense of living in a body that was more suited to me, that was really significant. And it’s not just about libido. It could be lust for life. It could be curiosity, confidence and nerve.” Peak masculinity ---------------- These conversations have blunted my cynicism, at least somewhat. Clearly, TRT is working for some. If my results come back as low, maybe there’s the chance of feeling transformed? I can probably afford £100 or so a month, if it comes to it. It’s with a sense of anticipation, then, that I open the email containing my test results. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but the result I get definitely wasn’t it. According to Randox, a testosterone level of less than 8.64nmol/l is too low, while anything above 29.0nmol/l is too high. My result is exactly 25.0, or right at the top end of “optimal”. The test kit I’d ordered actually tested eight different male hormones, and all of them are exactly optimal, mostly right at the top end. “You might not know it,” I almost immediately joked to my boyfriend, “but this is what peak masculinity looks like.” I am a 40-year-old man with the musculature of an elastic band, the aesthetic of a nerd (albeit one with tattoos and earrings), I can still barely grow a beard and I have virtually no body hair. And now I can’t even blame low testosterone for any of that. But while I’ve lost the hope of an easy explanation for any malaise in my life, I find myself taking a strange delight in my newfound high-t “alpha” status. I’m mostly joking when I brag about it to friends. But only mostly. For whatever reason, some small part of me definitely feels validated or vindicated by the result of a hormonal test. It might be the gamer in me: I’ve got something close to a high score on manliness. Well done me. The medical evidence -------------------- A conversation with Professor Ashley Grossman – one of the UK’s most respected endocrinologists (the term for doctors specialising in hormones) – brings me back to Earth, somewhat. My testosterone level of 25, he explains, doesn’t mean very much in practical or medical terms. “Above the minimal level of something like 12 nanomoles per litre, there’s no evidence that taking extra testosterone within the normal range is going to help you,” he explains. For dramatic results in terms of building muscle, you can go well beyond the normal levels and “yes, you will become more aggressive, you may well build up more muscle. That’s true, but that’s pathological. Those are abnormal levels which are going to be bad for you. “A little bit extra isn’t suddenly going to make you a bit more rugged or widen your jaw or whatever people are worrying about, no,” he says, unwittingly also dashing my hopes that I’ve somehow naturally won at manliness. “And in fact, the GMC specifically says if you do not have a subnormal testosterone level, then any doctor giving you testosterone on that basis is guilty of malpractice.” Grossman thinks that the rush of commercial health messages targeting men is driven by market forces. “It’s my own personal feeling that a lot of these companies have decided, well, we’ve saturated the female market with oral contraceptives and HRT, etc,” he says. “Women have got wise and rather more careful, and they’re tapping into a market of insecure young men.” He says that in his experience the vast majority of men who come for consultation wondering if low testosterone is why they’re tired, or their libido is low, or is behind whatever other problem they have, are disappointed. Their problems are real, but they’re only rarely caused by low testosterone. Usually, the problem is in the brain. The risks --------- It can cause serious issues if you take testosterone when you don’t need it. The treatments and tests aren’t cheap – almost anyone wanting them will need to go private, and the total cost usually lands at around £2,000 or so a year. Taking excessive testosterone risks cardiovascular disease, heart attack and strokes. And taking “normal” amounts isn’t risk-free, either. Most notably, as Grossman points out, taking testosterone supplements can damage male fertility – though men can take an additional hormone treatment to mitigate that risk, at additional cost – and it can permanently stop the body’s natural ability to produce testosterone. In practical terms, this creates a dependency on being able to buy testosterone for years or decades to come. It’s a profoundly strange irony: in their quest for manliness, men are turning to a supplement that risks permanently emasculating them – or at least shutting down their ability to produce the stereotypical male hormone. Like all prescription-only medication, testosterone cannot be marketed directly to the public in the UK. The fact that tests can be marketed, though, creates something of a loophole. Several testing companies also offer to privately prescribe testosterone, and set the threshold for what qualifies as “low” testosterone at a considerably higher level than the NHS and independent experts – potentially dragging a much larger percentage of men into the treatment group. The specialist doctors I spoke to for this article estimated that fewer than 1 per cent of men, at most, likely needed to be on TRT. A commercial opportunity ------------------------ “Men have become a much more visible health market,” says Dr Paul Galdas, professor of men’s health at the University of York, “partly through the mental health conversation and partly through influencer culture making self-optimisation a more mainstream masculine pursuit. The commercial opportunity has followed that shift.” Galdas says part of this is straightforward medicalisation – identifying a cluster of symptoms, some of which may just be aspects of modern life, and flagging them as a condition. But he also stresses that the symbolic weight testosterone carries is significant, too. “Once testosterone becomes a catch-all explanation, broader questions and issues such as work stress, poor sleep, relationship strain, loneliness, loss of meaning, and the pressure to remain constantly productive can get lost from view,” he explains. “In that sense, testosterone is doing double work – a biomedical issue in some cases, but also a cultural vehicle for much wider fears about ageing and diminished performance.” On one level, TRT feels like another in a long line of overhyped cures, something with genuine medical benefits for some, which for most people will not prove to be the answer to all of their ills. But testosterone also carries so much more, in terms of societal hopes and expectations. Ultimately, it feels like we are loading a hormone with too much hope and too much meaning. Powerful as it is, it’s only a chemical.