Relational Masculinity in Public
What James Talarico is Modeling
Ezra Klein & James Talarico
I came across Ezra Klein’s interview with James Talarico through a recommendation from my wife. She shared it after listening herself, telling me that Talarico’s responses stayed with her—not only for their political or theological content, but for how consistently he returned to relationships as the moral center of his thinking. She also knew that my own work focuses on relational masculinity: how men are shaped not just by individual traits, but by the quality of their connections—to others, institutions, and the broader social fabric.
That framing shaped how I listened. I wasn’t primarily assessing policy positions or electoral strategy. I was listening for something more foundational: how Talarico described the relational ground beneath his faith, beneath his politics, and beneath his sense of self. What emerged was not simply progressive Christian politician, but a form of masculinity rooted in relationships—one that resists control, embraces vulnerability, and defines moral strength through connection rather than dominance.
What follows reflects on that interview through a relational masculinity lens, reading Talarico’s words not as abstractions, but as signals of a different masculine posture in public life—one that resonates precisely because it centers relationship rather than power.
You can find the NY Times presentation of this interview here. There are clips on YouTube and various social media platforms, as well as on Apple Podcasts, and Spotify.
In a public moment dominated by performance, domination, and moral certainty, James Talarico offers something increasingly rare: a masculinity grounded in relationship, humility, and responsibility. Throughout his conversation on The Ezra Klein Show, he does not simply argue for a moral framework; he models a relational way of being that challenges dominant norms of masculine authority.
At the center of Talarico’s worldview is a refusal to separate belief from relationship. Faith, for him, is not an abstract creed or a tool of enforcement. It is lived, mutual, and sustaining. He describes Christianity as “a simple religion—not an easy religion,” organized around two inseparable commitments: loving God and loving neighbor. “They are in relationship. They are united.” Identity, in this framing, is not something one possesses, but something one practices through connection and responsibility.
This orientation is especially clear in how Talarico understands faith itself. Rather than framing belief as certainty or control, he redefines faith as trust—“trusting that love is going to get you through the hour, through the day, through your life.” He compares it to learning how to swim: “Don’t fight the water. Let the water carry you.” This directly challenges masculinities built on mastery and domination. Strength, here, comes not from force, but from grounding oneself in relationship.
Talarico consistently grounds moral seriousness not in purity or rule enforcement, but in responsibility to others—especially those most at risk. Referencing Matthew 25, he notes that Scripture tells us we will be judged not by what we profess, but by what we do: “by feeding the hungry, by healing the sick, by welcoming the stranger, by visiting the prisoner.” Masculinity, in this framing, is measured not by control over others, but by willingness to be answerable to the wellbeing of others.
Importantly, Talarico does not equate love with softness or avoidance of conflict. He is clear that love can be demanding and disruptive. Recalling Jesus overturning the tables in the temple, he reminds listeners that Jesus was not only “gentle and kind and soft,” but also “strong and tough and confrontational” when people were being harmed. Love, he argues, “is not weak…It sometimes provokes conflict in order to heal conflict.” Relational masculinity does not reject strength—it redefines it as strength exercised in service of relationship.
This relational posture is also evident in how Talarico speaks about difference and disagreement. He rejects the idea that compassion should stop at family, ideology, or familiarity. The hardest demand, he suggests, is sustaining relationship across difference—without abandoning conviction, but without dehumanization. He admits openly, “I fail at it,” modeling humility rather than moral superiority.
Finally, Talarico extends this relational critique beyond individual behavior to the broader social environment. He describes a “rage economy” that fractures human connection for profit, engineering anger while calling it connection. Against this backdrop, he points to embodied relational spaces—“churches and neighborhoods and pubs”—as essential counterweights: places where real human connection is formed and sustained.
Why This Matters
Taken together, Talarico models a form of masculinity that is accountable rather than authoritarian, humble rather than domineering, and rooted in relationship rather than fear. What makes this posture especially relevant is not its theological specificity or political context, but its implications for men’s health and belonging.
Across public health and social science research, we see consistent evidence that men’s wellbeing is deeply shaped by the strength and quality of their relationships. Social isolation, disconnection, and rigid norms around self-reliance are associated with higher risks of depression, substance use, cardiovascular disease, and suicide. Relational masculinities challenge these patterns by redefining strength as connection, responsibility, and mutual dependence.
What Talarico models is not a call for men to be nicer or softer, but for them to remain in relationship—to themselves, to others, and to the communities that sustain them. This kind of masculinity makes room for vulnerability without collapse, conviction without domination, and accountability without shame. In a time when many men are taught that strength means standing alone, relational masculinity offers a different path: one where belonging is not a reward for success, but a foundation for health, meaning, and collective flourishing.
