This year saw the rise and fall of the performative lit-bro. And though history, crime, and self-help books still persuade a certain type, the most recent NEA survey found that a mere quarter of men picked up a book of fiction in 2025. Theories about the origins of this “crisis” span a gamut, with many pinning blame on the supply.
Multiple New York Times opinion columnists have argued that straight men aren’t reading for lack of relatable protagonists. Others, like Robert Rubsam in Vulture, have noted plenty of books that spotlight straight men, but in a less-than-flattering light. Tony Tulathimutte’s Rejection, for instance, depicts “the male psyche as a pulsing wound of self-conscious neurosis.” Though a seismic best-seller, publishers have struggled to replicate that cultural event.
As Sophie Lee reported in an essay for Cultured yesterday, the literary world is still puzzling over what the next generation of [straight…] men want from a novel in 2026. Especially if it’s no longer recognition—wounding as that can be. Lee posits practicalities.
Is it “adrenaline” men seek? Or “direction, new pickup lines?” There’s a new case to be made that the boys desire all three. In an exposé last week, The Guardian’s Amandas Ongs considered the secret lives of straight men who read romance novels.
An apparently growing cadre, these readers may have found their way to the ripped bodice via other genre fiction, or love of a tight formula. Others, fresh off Bridgerton binges, cite the same attraction that the wider fanbase does: they love love. While romance is basically keeping the whole publishing industry afloat at this point, the genre has historically been pitched to women and queer readers.
Accordingly, some straight men feel shame about their interest. Many people Ongs spoke to are not quite out with their addiction. They congregate not in public, but on a Discord channel called Romance for Men.
Extract — continue reading at the source.