Our Journey in Men's Work: A Conversation with Fred Boyles By Martin Brossman
I first met Fred Boyles at a pivotal moment in my personal development journey around 1995/1996 with the ending of my 1st marriage. Fred Boyles had created an accountability group that I joined called the Samurai Business Team. The idea is you'd meet once a week and make a list of things you were gonna do, and if you didn't keep your word, you donated five dollars to the group, which ultimately would go to a charity. I, who always thought I had excellent ideas for improving things, called him on the phone with suggestions. We had a great conversation where we talked about everything. He was the catalyst that invited me into men's work. At the time, I had dabbled in personal development, done my fair share of seminars, and gained a lot of value from most of them, but there was something missing. And that something, I later realized, was a deeper connection to what it meant to be a man.
Fred and I recently sat down over Zoom (Feb. 2025) to reflect on our parallel journeys in men’s work—how we got here, what we’ve learned, and why it matters now more than ever. This conversation is not just about self-improvement but about reclaiming something fundamental that many modern men have lost.
Finding the Work: From Self-Improvement to Brotherhood
Fred’s entry into men’s work started in 1977 with Est, a rigorous self-development program that shaped a lot of his thinking. He spent ten years immersed in it, but by 1988, he realized something was off. It had made him more intellectual but not necessarily more connected to himself. He wanted to be simple. To trust himself. To just be a man. That led him to the Sterling Men’s Weekend, where he experienced something profound—a visceral sense of belonging among men, something he had never felt before.
I could relate. When I first got involved, I was coming from the world of corporate America, where I had built a life based on performance, intellect, and a deep desire to be seen as competent. But there was a moment—one I still remember vividly—where I found myself in a therapy session, pouring my heart out, letting emotions finally rise to the surface. The therapist called it a breakthrough. My then-wife looked at me with disgust. Something wasn’t adding up.
Then someone recommended Iron John by Robert Bly to me. (I bought the book on cassette to listen to it.) I was working at IBM, driving around listening to this fairy tale about men, and tears were running down my face. I didn’t even understand why—it just touched something deep—a wound I didn’t know I had. That book opened a door, but it was Fred who challenged me to go through the door.
A Rites of Passage in a Modern World
Fred did something that changed my life. He called me up and said, “I want you to come to L.A. for this men’s training.” And then he added a challenge: “Find a way to do it without putting it on a credit card. Earn it.” He even gave his word to check in with me weekly. And I thought to myself, this is safe because no man actually keeps his word.
But Fred did. And suddenly, I had to as well.
The weekend itself was a visceral experience. This wasn’t a self-help seminar where you took notes and nodded along. This was a challenge to my very identity as a man. Fear was part of it. And that’s when I understood something fundamental—no man walks into a true rites of passage with a smile on his face, expecting a comfortable experience. There should be a mix of fear and exhilaration. That’s what transformation feels like.
And when it was over, I realized something powerful: I had spent my whole life performing manhood, but now, I was living it.Lessons That Last a Lifetime
One of the things that stuck with me from those early days was the idea that modern men have adopted a feminine value system that simply doesn’t work for them. Now, let’s be clear—this isn’t about rejecting the feminine. It’s about reclaiming the masculine in a way that is strong, grounded, and deeply responsible.
Fred shared a phrase with me that still resonates: “Instead of being a wild stallion, try on being a noble mule.” It’s not about the flash of heroics; it’s about showing up every day, keeping your word, and building something that lasts.
I also learned that doubt kills the warrior. In my early years of personal development, I lived in the question. I intellectualized everything. But the men I met in those rooms rejected that way of being. They didn’t want my theories. They wanted me to stand in who I was.
And that’s the heart of men’s work—it’s about showing up fully, without apology, and without seeking permission to be who you already are.
Why This Work Matters Today
In today’s world, men are struggling. Many are lost, disconnected, and unsure of what it even means to be a man. The cultural narratives about masculinity swing wildly between toxic and obsolete, leaving little room for a healthy, embodied masculinity.
Men’s work is about creating a space where men can be real with each other. It’s about sharpening each other, holding each other accountable, and learning from those who have walked the path before us. It’s not about dominance or submission—it’s about brotherhood.
Fred and I have spent decades in this work, and if there’s one thing we know for sure, it’s this: Every man needs a tribe. A place where he is challenged, respected, and truly seen. And when men commit to this work, they don’t just change their own lives. They change their families, their communities, and the world.
So, if you’re feeling that call—the one you can’t quite put into words but know is there—I invite you to step into the unknown. Find a group. Start a conversation. Take the risk. Because on the other side of that fear is something you’ve been looking for your whole life.
It’s time to reclaim it.
Video of our full conversation
Martin Brossman
Coach, Speaker, and Advocate for Men’s Work
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