Shortly after the presidential election, Andy Kalmowitz of Jalopnik argued that Gen Z bros have been ‘sucked into’ an ideology in which proving manliness is paramount to their collective identity. They accomplish this, writes Kalmowitz, through the use of demeaning language, as well as through the accumulation of material goods that ‘project a machismo aesthetic to everyone around them.’ One of the more telling ways this is accomplished, he contends, is through the acquisition of a very large truck or SUV. While such a purchase is intended to confirm ones masculinity, as Kalmowitz notes, ‘it just lets everyone know you’re not secure in your manhood.’ Kalmowitz’s solution is to get your massive male body behind the wheel of a minivan. While driving a monstrous pickup or SUV might suggest one swings a certain way politically, a minivan simply marks a man as someone who ‘values practicality and usability,’ and ‘who doesn’t mind taking the kids to school or soccer practice.’ In short, a man who owns a minivan is one who is comfortable in his masculinity and doesn’t need to advertise it through the vehicle he drives.
This is a rather unique and courageous position to take. Since women first expressed interest in automobility auto manufacturers and marketers have determinedly directed the female motorist toward the practical ‘family’ vehicle. While men are often encouraged to purchase automobiles that reflect power and performance, women are expected to drive a safe, reliable, and functional automobile that reinforces the gender-appropriate roles of wife and mother. The gendering of the automotive experience was instigated soon after the introduction of the gasoline-powered automobile in the early twentieth century as a solution to the growing problem of women’s automobility in American society. Fearful the increased power and range of the gasoline-powered automobile would encourage women to drive faster and further – and away from domestic responsibilities – the slow and sedate electric vehicle with limited range was positioned as eminently more suitable for the woman driver. After the Second World War, automakers continued to rely upon the cultural assumption that women’s ‘unchanging biological natures’ resulted in a gender-wide preference for sensible, sound, and dependable cars perfectly suited for the transportation of kids and cargo (Scharff 116). In 1983, Lee Iococca introduced the Plymouth Voyager; its tremendous success firmly associated the the minivan with motherhood. As Cindy Donatelli argues, the timing of the minivan introduction coincided with Ronald Reagan’s ‘family values’ campaign, often considered a backlash against the second-wave feminist visions of the 1960s and 1970s. As a ‘lifestyle enabler,’ the minivan, purposefully and aggressively identified with women by automakers, marketers, and the media, reinforced the notion that women bear primary responsibility for housework and childcare.
Automakers have occasionally attempted to sever the longstanding and stubborn connection between the minivan and motherhood. In 2017, Chrysler called upon comedian Jim Gaffigan to promote the Pacifica as a vehicle for cool, considerate, and caring dads, leveraging Gaffigan’s real life persona as a father of five. Driving a Pacifica, exclaims Gaffigan, is ‘good for my dad brand.’ However, in 2021, comedian Kathryn Hahn was behind the wheel as a ‘soccer mom’; in 2024, advertising targets the ‘Boy Mom’ and ‘Dog Mom’ as potential Pacifica consumers. While women are making the shift to small SUVs [61% of small SUV owners are women], it appears that Chrysler has reverted to longstanding, stereotypical tropes to hopefully rekindle women’s interest in the once ubiquitous family hauler.
As an auto writer, Kalmowitz is no doubt aware of the female shift to small SUVs, and is thus taking the opportunity to reclaim the minivan as a man’s vehicle. Kalmowitz admits that Chrysler lent him a Pacifica Hybrid Pinnacle with a full battery and gas tank ‘to do with as I pleased for a week.’ However, the tone of his review suggests he was both surprised and delighted by the vehicle’s utilitarian qualities, as well as its ability to transport him and five of his closest buddies ‘with all of their luggage for a weekend away from the city.’ Yet what is most important to Kalmowitz is that the minivan serves many of the same important functions as a ‘anti-social massive pickup truck or SUV’ without its adverse political connotations.
In 1992, urban planning scholar Martin Wachs wrote, ‘despite the universal appeal and use of the automobile, it remains one of the most ‘gendered’ aspects of American urban life’ (86). Such engrained historical and cultural automotive associations – men and pickups, women and minivans – are difficult to dismantle. Kalmowitz is to be commended for his efforts to not only challenge such stereotypes, but as an auto writer and influencer, to promote a ‘minivan’ masculinity that promotes community, environmental awareness, good times, and fatherhood.
Donatelli, Cindy. “Driving the Suburbs: Minivans, Gender, and Family Values.” Material History Review 54 (2001): 84-95.
Kalmowitz, Andy. “Minivans and the Myth of Manliness”. Jalopnik.com 28 Nov 2024.
Scharff, Virginia. Taking the Wheel: Women and the Coming of the Motor Age. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1991.
Wachs, Martin. “Men, Women, and Urban Travel: The Persistence of Separate Spheres.” The Car and the City: The Automobile, the Built Environment, and Daily Urban Life. Martin Wachs and Margaret Crawford, eds. Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 1992. 86-103.
