Jon Ronson: ‘The worst moments of my life are when I’m between stories’

Jon Ronson admits that he has an unusual personality. The Welsh writer is an anxious introvert who becomes a fearless reporter and interviewer when he’s on the trail of a good story, whether it’s his journalism for the likes of the Guardian and NPR, his BBC podcast series Things Fell Apart or bestselling books like The Psychopath Test and The Men Who Stare at Goats. “I’m so excited about trying to solve a mystery that I’ll enthusiastically ask somebody an incredibly personal question,” he says. “And I’ve noticed that because I ask it with such enthusiasm they tend to answer quite enthusiastically.”

Ronson is an ebullient interviewee, too, speaking to me from the house he shares with his wife, Elaine, in New York’s Hudson Valley. “I never thought I’d enjoy the countryside,” he says, “but there’s something very calming about the silence. We’ve got groundhogs!” He’s especially full of beans because his new book, The Castle: Adventures in a World of Unravelling Men, is finally out in the world – his first since 2015’s So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed. Stumbling onto the story of Chris Mark, a chaotic, castle-owning millionaire in Connecticut who is “trying to be Hugh Hefner during what is clearly the worst moment in human history to be Hugh Hefner”, allowed Ronson to explore the bigger question of why so many middle-aged men are going off the rails in spectacular style.

Like all Ronson stories (he calls them “adventures”), The Castle is a funny and unpredictable ride, but this time Ronson also scrutinises himself and his unhealthy relationship to work. He is as driven at 59 as he ever was. “I unravel super easily,” he says, grinning, “which is one reason why I wanted to write this book.”

Chris Mark’s story fell into your lap after your son Joel was invited to a party at his castle but did you want to explore this subject anyway?

It would have been difficult. I didn’t want to write about the manosphere or incels, which isn’t to diss Louis Theroux’s manosphere documentary, which is excellent. I would never have wanted to write a polemic. So I wouldn’t have known how to do it if this story hadn’t crashed unannounced into my life.

Most stories about masculinity in crisis feature young men. How is it different for the older men you talk to?

Do you remember Patrick Marber’s Closer? The play starts with an open stage but by the end of it all the baggage of their lives is piled up on stage. That’s the case with the men in this book – ordinary men whose lives are being impacted in a big way by societal changes. The emptiness and brokenness that comes from the death of old structures.

One chapter features Graham Linehan, the radicalised comedy writer who used to be your friend. Was that hard to write?

It was by far the most difficult chapter to write because there was so much pain involved. My first feeling was the only reason not to do this is fear of the consequences. And the other reason was I really wanted to write about disinhibited men. A lot of people are deciding to rip off their faces and allow their ids to run wild. I’m involved in Graham’s story – I’m one of his primary bêtes noires and he’s posted about me thousands of times by now. In the end I thought his story is so interesting that it’s really worthy of proper writing. If I was Harold Pinter or Tom Stoppard, I could have written a play about Graham.

The story takes many unforeseen twists. Have you ever had to abandon a project because the story was not as interesting as you hoped?

I wrote this story about a man who had taken his life because he was out of his depth with credit cards. My American publisher said: “You need to write a The Men Who Stare at Goats of the credit card industry.” I spent six months meeting people and it was killing me because I couldn’t make these really boring pen-pushers work on the page. Those six months of hell elicited one good sentence, which ended up in The Psychopath Test: “If you want to get away with wielding true malevolent power, be boring.”

The Castle is your most personal book. Did the subject demand it?

Getting older and getting more confident as a writer means that you don’t feel the need to exaggerate your absurdities as much. I can go to the absolute clinical truth about the broken aspects of my demeanour. I realised I was going to the castle to fill this emptiness – I don’t want to be without purpose. And [Mark] was also doing what he was doing because he felt useless. So it felt extremely appropriate to write more about myself.

Why do you need to work so hard?

Hand to God, it’s nothing to do with ambition for success or getting attention. When I asked Randy Newman why he wrote songs, he said: “It’s how I judge myself and how I feel better.” That’s exactly the same for me. The fulfilment I get from a job well done gives me more happiness than anything else. The worst moments of my life by far are when I’m between stories. Even after half a day of trying to think of the next story idea, I feel this bleakness creeping in, and I’ve realised just how unhealthy it is.

So how do you relax?

We watch TV. When I’m taking an edible and watching The Pitt with Elaine, I’m fine.

Why do you find reporting easier than socialising?

It’s the same as being on stage. I don’t get nervous, whereas if I was in the audience and someone asked for questions, I would never put my hand up. If you’re on stage you come pre-approved, whereas if you put your hand up you’re just some idiot starting from scratch. That’s how I feel at a dinner party. Whereas if I’m off having an adventure, I have a reason to be doing it.

The Psychopath Test is still your biggest success. Why do you think that is?

I’ve done two TED talks. The Psychopath Test has had more than 30 million views and So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed has had about 4 million. And I’ve often wondered why that is. I think it’s because there’s a bad part of us that wants to label other people. My public shaming talk turns the lens on us and our own behaviour, but people obviously want to think about other people being bad.

We’ve since entered an age of public shamelessness and disinhibition. Do we actually need a bit more shame now?

I agree. If you go on X now, it’s so dispiriting: a ghoulish, misogynistic, horrible world. Natalie Wynn [of the YouTube channel ContraPoints] says it’s important to have some humility. It’s the people who refuse to look inwards and just lash out whose lives go haywire.

What annoys you at the moment?

Everything to do with Trump. I can’t wait for this era to be over. It just drives you nuts.

What’s given you hope recently?

I think Mamdani’s doing a fantastic job in New York. He’s exemplary. He doesn’t fall into a lot of the pitfalls that the left fall into. Being in New York right now, there’s a really great atmosphere. Pride was delightful, the football was delightful, the Knicks winning … I think he’s been perfect. It’s such a shame that he can’t be president.

Do you have any regrets?

Yes! Many, many regrets. Most of them, if I said them out loud, people would say: “What the fuck are you talking about?” I suffer from a form of OCD called scrupulosity where you agonise over things too much. I get those every day but the vast majority are a stupid thing I said at a party or I got a hug wrong. Have I done anything really terrible? No.

The Castle: Adventures in a World of Unravelling Men is published by Viking, £20