I think I can still say this with an (as yet) unblemished record as a heterosexual: I have a boy crush on Sam de Brito. I read his blog; I work for his former employer; I've watched him admiringly on the Today show; and now I've gone and bought his latest book: Building a Better Bloke.
It wasn't the positive affirmations on the back cover which sucked me in. It was Sam's wry smirk on the front; a knowing glance that suggested that as much as I wanted to resist stooping to such depths to repair my social dysfunction, I couldn't afford not to.
Picking up a copy of the book and waiting furtively for the coast to clear, I approached the counter with the trepidation a teenage boy must feel attempting to buy pornography for the first time. "Would you like a paper bag," the bookshop cashier asked with his own knowing glance — purely by coincidence, I'm sure.
"Yes," I confessed. "Anything to disguise the fact that (a) I'm buying a self-help book; (b) it has something to do with dating; and (c) it's written by that pariah of Australian feminism, Sam de Brito," I only went as far as saying to myself. I got home and read it cover-to-cover — hiding the offending literature in a dust jacket so my flatmate wouldn't know what I was reading.
Man drought theory
But why should this misadventure in male self-improvement be of any interest to Cosmo girls? It's ridiculously safe to say that Building a Better Bloke hasn't been written with a female readership in mind. But de Brito's contribution to the self-help shelves might just precipitate a narrowing of the perceived gap in the statistically contentious 'man drought'.
No doubt you've already read about the drought. You've probably even noticed it on some level when the talent at 10pm at your local bar is on a par with what's on offer at 3am at McDonald's. Basically, proponents of man drought theory will have us believe that a nationwide deficit of 64,804 males in their thirties on Census night in 2006 is enough to drive any self-respecting single girl to hook up with whichever slob hasn't already been married off.
That 64,804 deficit roughly translates to an ovary-shrivelling 105 women in their thirties for every 100 males in the same age range. But, when you factor out, well, people who are already in registered or de facto marriages, we find that there are in fact a less terrifying 100.24 bachelorettes for every 100 bachelors in their thirties (370,854 single women and 369,979 single men for a net loss of only 875 single 30-something blokes across the nation), which kind of puts things into perspective (albeit without entering into questions of sexuality).
The rainmaker
Clearly, this perceived shortage is a question of quality more than quantity, and this is where de Brito comes in — playing rainmaker in the middle of a dry spell.
De Brito encourages men to lift their game and "become a man women want". At least, that's what half his book is focused on. The other half is full of strategies for men to drag themselves away from the Internet, pornography and gaming consoles, and get out on the street cheekily introducing themselves to strange women in public spaces.
It's that cheekiness that is the underlying theme of de Brito's bloke renovation manual. It's awkwardly balanced against "the art of the heckle", but de Brito does make an effort to question the sincerity of men who refer to "bitches" and "sluts" and then wonder why they're watching SmackDown in the early hours of Saturday morning.
This might not strictly be a dating manual for blokes, but the objective of all this self-improvement is clearly to improve the male reader's appeal to the opposite sex. "A certain amount of conformity is a good thing," de Brito writes, suggesting men should "become the person they want to attract" by way of gargling mouthwash, developing interests beyond Grand Theft Auto and having a social conscience.
Building a Better Bloke is filled with the kind of advice mothers, fathers, dirty old uncles and more-cavalier mates have given their shy, retiring glamazon-fearing friends. As a consequence, the pace of the book reads like it's trying to fit too much meat in too small a sandwich. Sweeping chapters on hygiene, fashion and diet quickly give way to advice on how to approach women, and then what to do with them once you've got their attention.
Thankfully, de Brito bans the great one-liners, such as, "wow, you're so beautiful" and "do you have a boyfriend?" Instead, he suggests men engage women in, er, conversation. He decries the manipulative ways of the pickup artist and accompanying literature, while later mapping out a number of conversation starters and assuring the reader that "chatting up women is not sleazy".
The suggestions (to look out for) range from the single guy pretending it's his birthday (and the object of his affections has crashed his party), to advocating topics such as "fashion, beauty care, men, relationships, dating, travel, holidays, fate, astrology, yoga or magic". And if a bloke has to talk about work, which he discourages, de Brito suggests playfully fabricating a profession; mine will be 'quantity surveyor'.
Surprisingly, at times de Brito reads like something of a romantic ("I truly believe when you find your life, you'll find your love") and an advocate of some sort of Renaissance man. Perhaps not 'Renaissance' in the sense that after reading Building a Better Bloke anyone will be able to perform a concerto solo or recite Homer's Iliad. But de Brito's advice squarely puts the onus on men to improve their own lives, become interesting people interested in people, and trust that the rest will follow.
Do a bloke a favour, or a girl
So, if you happen to know of a young man who doesn't bathe as much as he should, spends too much time online and wonders why he has difficulty meeting women, as a public service to your single sisters you should consider buying him Building a Better Bloke. Just make sure you rip out page 1; he doesn't need confirmation that he "can do better" than you before he's finished flossing his teeth.