A new independent press has announced that it will publish only books written by men. According to Jude Cook, founder of Conduit Books, there are fewer opportunities for male writers due to the dominance of female authors, agents, and publishers. In an article for the Bookseller, Cook said that he wants to address ‘overlooked’ issues, such as ‘fatherhood, masculinity, working-class male experiences, sex and relationships, and negotiating the 21st-century as a man.’ The novelist and literary critic emphasised that he is not taking an adversarial stance and that this is just a ‘timely corrective’ to an overwhelmingly female-dominated literary scene.

Is Cook right? To quote Roland Barthes, are we witnessing the death of the (male) author?

Five debut books were among the sixteen novels to make the grade in this year’s Women’s Prize for Fiction longlist announced in March. When it was established in 1996 it was in response to a market dominated by male writers. In the 1980s and 1990s, giants of the literary world – Martin Amis, Raymond Carver, Philip Roth, and Ian McEwan – filled the shelves of bookstores. Back then, female writers struggled to receive recognition from critics and found it hard to get their work published. Not anymore.

According to figures from the Bookseller, 629 of the 1,000 bestselling works of fiction from 2020 were written by women. Globally, numerous awards exist to support an ascendant demographic. In the United Kingdom, these include the Women’s Prize, Women’s Prize for Playwriting, and Leeds Literary Prize for unpublished fiction by Black and Asian women writers. In Australia, the Stella Prize celebrates women and non-binary writers, while the Davitt Awards honour crime fiction by Australian women.

In Australia, 77 per cent of those employed in publishing are women. Another major study, in the American publishing industry, found that 74 per cent of editorial roles are women, 78 per cent are literary agents and 71 per cent of publishing staff overall were female, including six in ten at the executive level. The survey itself is quite revealing – the editorial analysis of the findings wants us to reflect on the lack of women of colour in the industry, yet only 14 per cent of agents are men.

Rather than a correction, this is a monopoly. As any student of economics knows, monopolies don’t allow for competition. This chromosomal cartel has resulted in what appears to be a monoculture throughout the industry. The over-saturation in the female-dominated fiction market presents several challenges, as young male writers find themselves marginalised within a culture that often demonises masculinity. Conduit Books’ recent initiative to prioritise male authors highlights the belief that female writers, literary agents and editors might have biases or insufficient interest and understanding of narratives centred around male experiences. This gender disparity has influenced the dynamics of publishing, resulting in declining support for male authors and their work. As a result, it has silenced the voices of male authors, limited the presence of male role models, and hindered the exploration of critical issues.

Most modern aspiring male writers face this problem when they are trying to solicit literary agents. But who are these gatekeepers?

Those who enter the profession are not poor Australians who grew up in Broadmeadows but mainly young white women often from privileged backgrounds. Potential employees are undoubtedly smart and ambitious, but publishing has long been criticised for its reliance on unpaid internships. This type of job is mostly available to those from affluent families, creating a barrier in which only individuals with generational wealth or a supporting partner can tolerate a meagre salary. They’re often ardent readers who have studied English literature or creative writing at elite liberal arts colleges. When you haven’t experienced the harsh realities of life outside academia, it’s easy to indulge in abstractions about identity. Why would a socially liberal, underpaid young woman from a wealthy family schooled in identity politics be interested in a manuscript from a middle-aged man outside the confines of fashionable identitarian discourse?

They want a career. Regardless of background, agents want to sell books. The new generation of literary gatekeepers may be young and progressive, but they are business people. Male-authored works can be commercially successful even if it’s not written by the favoured demographic, but they need to be edited to frame identity or sociocultural issues differently. Writers who get this far should prepare themselves for ‘sensitivity readers’ to rip their work apart and demand a whole new draft that would appeal to a 27-year-old single woman who attended ANU.

In the 1990s, Irvine Welsh and Chuck Palahniuk tapped into the collective consciousness with bold, controversial and darkly satirical novels. Their powerful prose dealt with topics such as masculinity, alienation, drug addiction and sexual relationships. Who will replace our modern literary heroes once they retire? My favourite author, Charles Bukowski, would never be published today in our current environment.

Some may say sarcastically, ‘Imagine my shock! Men get their own space!’ That joke may work in the exclusive domain of academic departments, but the irony dies in the real world. To inspire more guys to write fiction, we must provide a platform to support and promote great, rare new talents like Matthew Gasda. Women account for 80 per cent of novel sales, therefore the market offers a diverse range of genres that appeal to the fairer sex – ‘women’s divorce fiction’, anyone? Thus, there is an urgent need to encourage men to read more fiction. Above all, the publishing industry must avoid alienating half of its audience by criticising or ridiculing men.

Cook recognises that guys dominated in the past and wants to focus on male writers that explore compelling subjects. I dislike segregation unless it’s for trans-related reasons. It’s infantilising, implying that men need special treatment. Ideally, such platforms would be unnecessary. Nonetheless, I’m pleased that Conduit Books will exist while the culture war fades into obscurity. Hopefully it won’t take too long.