I haven’t met Secretary of Defense Lloyd J. Austin III. But his recent photographs capture the look of a Black man with a lot on his mind.
And there’s something else etched on Austin’s face. He has a look my father had late in life — stoic.
Even when my dad’s health began to fail, he never complained. I didn’t know he had been treated for prostate cancer until my stepmother mentioned it after my father’s death from heart-related issues.
He didn’t talk about prostate cancer — not with his daughters, not even with his sons.
There are things that a lot of men don’t like to talk about, and prostate cancer is one of them.
The secrecy that surrounded Austin’s surgery for prostate cancer highlights the sad fact that the ailment is still stigmatized.
Austin, 70, had surgery Dec. 22 and was hospitalized a week later with a urinary tract infection, and apparently no one at the White House was aware of his whereabouts.
On Jan. 8, a news item — “Austin Continues Recovery” — was posted on the Department of Defense website. It said that Austin “resumed full duties and remains in contact with senior advisers while continuing to recover from experiencing complications from an elective medical procedure.”
It wasn’t until Jan. 9 that the Defense Department revealed Austin was in the hospital recovering from complications after prostate cancer surgery.
President Joe Biden wasn’t told about the prostate cancer surgery until Jan. 9, according to a National Security Council spokesperson.
For whatever reason, Austin chose to keep his medical diagnosis private.
Austin must have known his departure from protocol was unacceptable as a military leader. But he did it anyway.
Despite the controversy among Republicans over that decision, I’m sure many men have the same view on why Austin didn’t share the diagnosis.
“Many people with prostate cancer experience stigma and shame,” Dr. Russell Z. Szmulewitz, director of the genitourinary oncology program at the University of Chicago, said in an interview on Healthline, a health and wellness website. “Some view the disease as an ‘emasculating journey,’ while others are reluctant to speak about their concerns or diagnosis in their homes and communities.”
Szmulewitz said the “biggest stigma is the perception of diminished or damaged masculinity.”
Many men in Austin’s shoes would have made the same choice.
Austin took the steps necessary — no matter how unpleasant — to deal with a disease that disproportionately kills Black men.
But he passed up the opportunity to educate a younger generation of men about a treatable disease if caught early.
And you can see why.
Instead of showing empathy, elected officials have turned this sensitive medical issue into a witch hunt.
Because prostate cancer is a disease that’s sometimes associated with sexual dysfunction, some men have a difficult time talking about it.
But they need to talk about it, especially Black men. They are 1.7 times more likely to be diagnosed with prostate cancer and 2.1 times more likely to die from it than white men.
Some weren’t screened for the disease early enough or didn’t want to undergo the invasive testing procedure — you’re putting that where? Others didn’t have the resources to complete the procedures needed to treat the disease.
“We need wives, sisters and daughters to encourage men in their lives to talk more regularly about prostate health and prostate cancer,” Szmulewitz said. “Men who have had prostate exams need to tell their sons, brothers, friends and cousins about it, and why, despite the stigma, they felt compelled to do so.”
That’s a more constructive pursuit than calling for Austin’s resignation.
