Deep Meaningful (and Masculine) Conversation

The high of men’s drunken DMCs, and the low the next day  

In a cramped, mouldy flat bathroom cluttered with half-finished drinks and crushed beer cans, friends sit perched on the sink, bathtub, toilet, or against the door. Outside, the music thumps a muffled rhythm and bottles clink. But in here, the world softens.  

This is a ritual: the drunken DMC. Deep and meaningful conversation fuelled by RTDs and unspoken emotional backlogs. A secret slips out. Love is declared. Tears are inevitable. Eventually, someone bangs on the door, and everyone yells at them to piss off.  

But for many men, the drunken DMC is something of embarrassment the next day. After ranting, trading advice, and hugging it out, they’ll send a text the next day:  

“Lol sorry. Was so drunk. Plz ignore whatever I said.” 

Art / Olive Bartlett-Mowat

Australia based psychologist Daniel Thorpe tells me how alcohol strips away the internalised awareness of masculine norms, making it suddenly feel like a good idea to share deeper thoughts and emotions with friends.  

“We’ve grown up in a culture where vulnerability between men is seen as weak,” Thorpe explains. “But with the frontal lobe switched off, you stop filtering yourself through that lens. You just open up.”

A 2023 study by Medium found that many men felt social drinking gave them permission to open up. It created a sense of emotional safety, where they could act outside traditional masculine norms. When sober, they said starting these conversations felt too awkward.  

In 1990, psychologists Claude Steele and Robert Josephs introduced the concept of alcohol myopia — the idea that alcohol narrows our focus to whatever’s right in front of us. A feeling, a thought, a person. It muffles everything else, like judgement, context, and future consequences. 

Thorpe explains that the cognitive tunnel vision that comes with alcohol myopia dials down your frontal lobe, and suddenly it feels like a good idea to open up to your mates. Sober, those same thoughts might get pushed aside by internalised rules about masculinity – don’t be weak, don’t overshare, don’t make things weird.  

He says, “Alcohol flips that script, not because the feelings aren’t real, but because it temporarily lowers your awareness about the social constructs keeping your vulnerability hidden away.” 

The next morning, though, minimising or excusing what was said the night before tends to follow. Thorpe puts it down to a combination of hangxiety and a return to social conditioning. 

“You sort of snap back to how you normally are, just with a bit more anxiety tied in because you’re hungover,” he says. “So you brush it off, downplay it.” 

He believes drunken DMCs between men aren’t necessarily a sign that alcohol is the only way they can open up, but rather that it temporarily suspends the reasons they usually don’t. 

“Whether these chats are a psychological phenomenon or just a messy side-effect of a few too many drinks is debatable.”  

“But I guess it can be a way for guys to connect emotionally… if they can remember it the next morning.” 

It’s worth remembering that alcohol isn’t a magic key to emotional depth. It’s not a truth serum — you might spill your heart, or you might say something you didn’t mean and regret it. Alcohol can blur the line between vulnerability and volatility.  

When it comes to DMCs with the boys, emotional culture often leaves no space for vulnerability unless it’s softened by booze or wrapped in irony. Maybe one day, men’s bathroom secrets and curb confessions won’t be regretted the next day.  

But until then, these drunken DMCs remain a sacred confession booths. As someone inevitably bangs on the door and everyone yells at them to piss off, I can’t help but wonder: what if we made space for this softness in the daylight too?