In case you somehow haven’t noticed, manhood is on the ballot.

Even before President Biden stepped aside to let Vice President Kamala Harris step up to be the Democrats’ presidential nominee, insiders from both parties were calling this the “boys versus girls election.”

And even before the Republican National Convention opened in Milwaukee in July, spokespeople for Team Trump were telling reporters they hoped to contrast “weak versus strong” as their social media message — and present a stage show as testosterone-fueled as a Super Bowl. In that spirit, my most lasting memory from the GOP’s Milwaukee fest is Hulk Hogan’s ruddy red chest exploding across my television screen as he ripped off his T-shirt.

The message? It’s OK to feel comfortable in your own skin, even if not in your own T-shirt, as you try to win the hearts of those manly man voters who are already captivated and contained in the MAGA world.

Then, hard on the heels of Donald Trump’s MAGAs, along came the Democrats in Chicago to challenge the GOP’s hyper masculine chest thumping with their own Hollywood star-studded post-Biden challenge to the polling gender gap. Their message: reproductive rights-dominated inclusivity across all racial and gender lines. Rarely has an election campaign been so sharply and unashamedly defined by the gender gap.

Of course, considering how the last time the race was so sharply defined by the gender gap may have been 2016, when Hillary Clinton lost to Trump, it was prudent of Harris to pick Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz as her running mate.

In contrast to the famously bombastic style of Trump, Walz presents what feminists have called “positive masculinity.” He’s also been predictably slammed by attack campaigns, to limited effect.

Walz spent 24 years in the Army National Guard, having joined at age 17. However, he never served in an active combat zone. Nevertheless, at a public meeting about gun violence in 2018, he said, “We can make sure that those weapons of war that I carried in war is the only place where those weapons are at.”

His use of the phrase “in war” on this one occasion was seized on by Trump’s running mate, Ohio Sen. JD Vance, a Marine veteran who served in Iraq — although not in combat.

The Harris-Walz campaign responded that Walz “misspoke.”

Frankly, as a Vietnam War veteran who also missed combat, I honor both men for serving their country. That service, too, offers an example of positive manhood.

Positive masculinity is an assortment of attitudes and behaviors that build on the qualities positively associated with traditional masculinity while avoiding its negative aspects, which include thoughtless aggression, domination and violence — behaviors that too often victimize women and girls.

One particularly striking anecdote from Walz’s past might well have sealed the deal in his favor. When he was asked in 1999 to be faculty adviser for his Southern Minnesota high school’s first gay-straight alliance club, Walz, then a geography teacher and football coach, agreed to do it — much to the relief of then-student Jacob Reitan, now 42.

“It was important to have a person who was so well liked on campus, a football coach who had served in the military,” Reitan said in an interview with The New York Times. “Having Tim Walz as the adviser of the gay-straight alliance made me feel safe coming to school.”

Indeed, by doing his duty as an educator in this instance, Walz set an example that may not grab as much attention as, say, ripping his shirt off in front of a national television audience. But as lessons for life go, it’s a lot more valuable.

The meaning and value of manhood are endlessly debated topics, as they should be. They should not be endlessly exploited.

Honor, courage, leadership, honesty, integrity and fairness are just a few of the qualities we should associate with positive manhood. It’s easy to think of more. Unfortunately, it can be a lot harder to live up to them.

The writer is a columnist for the Chicago Tribune.