Almost 80 percent of suicides are completed by men. 80%. And suicide is the second-leading cause of death in men under forty-five years old. Three of these men who died by suicide are my relatives: my father when I was a college senior in 1989, my 26-year-old cousin Vinny in 2013, and my youngest brother Brendan in 2022.
Men’s higher rates of suicide bring up two crucial questions: Why are so many men killing themselves? And why aren’t we, as a society, more focused on suicide in men?
Many people consider the more lethal means that men use for suicide, compared to women, as an explanation for this lopsided figure. Men are more likely than women to attempt suicide with firearms, which are fatal 85% to 90% of the time. Women are more likely than men to use medications in a suicide attempt, which are fatal only 2% of the time.
While choice of means is one possible explanation, I attribute the gender disparity to societal expectations placed on men, beginning in childhood, to be stoic and not show any weaknesses. These expectations create different standards for men and women.
Let’s face it: women do a much better job of expressing their feelings than men do. There’s no point arguing about this, fellas; we are clearly deficient in this area. Women talk more to friends and family members if they have suicidal thoughts. Women also are more likely to seek help through a mental health provider. In general, we know that men bottle emotions like sadness and grief and are more likely than women to hide incidents of child abuse.
Men get depression, too. This article by the Mayo Clinic tells what to look out for, and how to cope and heal if you are one of those men. But most men with depression don’t get help.
If men aren’t talking about their stress, sadness, and insecurities, then they are more likely to self-medicate through substances. No surprise, then, that men have much higher rates of alcoholism than women.
One could argue that women’s documented higher rates of depression and lower rates of suicide are a positive sign that accepting help lowers rates of suicide. Men’s suicide rates might go down if societal expectations changed so they, too, felt comfortable seeking help.
I recognize that I am generalizing about genders here, and I’m not including nonconforming genders. It’s important to recognize that most research on the prevalence of suicide includes categories only for male and female sex. I anticipate that this will change in upcoming years, but for now, allow me the leeway to make this point: Whether it’s because boys are raised to hide their feelings and to problem-solve without emotion, or because ongoing societal messages equate stoicism with strength, most men do not open up easily.
Many men would say they don’t talk about their feelings because they think most people don’t care. Men shove feelings down long enough for them to fester and cause problems down the road. These problems can include believing that there are no solutions to problems – and that the people around them might be better off without them.
There’s no question we are living in a historical period where there is intense criticism of men. Certainly some of it is deserved. Toxic masculinity clearly exists. That 10 year old boy who was taught to not cry, to be a strong problem solver, and to show no weakness, grows up into a man confused by conflicting messages for men and women. This directly leads to the gendered stereotype of men not asking for help, needing to be right, and prizing strength.
Toxic masculinity has led to many men feeling they cannot admit when they are depressed or need help. In turn, many feel shame. They think there must be something wrong with them, compared to their expectations. When they keep these feelings to themselves, you have a lot of men thinking they’re all alone.
I believe the shame and stigma that emerge from these pressures lead directly to their significantly higher suicide rate. If we can change that social stigma – if we can make it easier for men to talk about emotional problems and ask for help – we will have more fathers, brothers, and sons who stay alive.
We also need to ask why more attention isn’t paid to men’s higher suicide rates. The statistics showing the predominance of male suicide are dramatic and point to a significant problem, so why is there such little focus on male suicide?
If nearly 80% of any demographic other than men were dying by suicide, I am confident the conversation would be different. My thirty years of professional experience in human services is that if any historically marginalized demographic were dying by suicide at 4 times the rate of others, there would be outrage, focus, and money dedicated to tackling the problem.
Men are hurting. This is a societal problem that we all need to consider. It’s not just affecting the men dying, but the families of these men – unfortunately, I can attest to this personally. We cannot make changes around stigma and stereotypes on our own. These changes must begin with all of us talking about men’s mental health, suicide, and unrealistic standards for masculinity.
Let’s have the conversation.
© 2024 Don Ryan. All Rights Reserved. Written for Speaking of Suicide.
Thank you so much for enlightening me on this important topic! This is great information and I appreciate your courage to share your story! I’ve learned so much and appreciate working with you! Good job!!!
Means a lot, Dr Tamara. Thank you.
I guess my thoughts aren’t even welcome here. Oh well.
Anonymous,
I don’t know what you’re referring to. Did you submit a comment and it wasn’t posted? There can be several reasons for that:
1. It didn’t abide by the site’s Comments Policy. However, it’s rare that a comment is rejected altogether; I typically remove material that goes against the site’s policy (e.g., discussion of suicide methods, encouragement to kill oneself, etc.)
2. It got caught by the site host’s spam filter. This can happen by mistake. The thing is, the site gets so many hundreds of pieces of spam that I can’t sift through them all on a daily basis. If you submitted something and it didn’t appear, please mail me at speakingofsuicide@gmail.com so I can know to look for it.
3. There’s a delay. I’m the only person here, and sometimes I’m traveling, out of cell service, sick, or something else that makes me unable to the comments right away. I’ll get to it once I’m back. And if not it’s still not posted after you’ve waited a few days, please email me so I can look into the problem.
Thanks for participating — or trying to participate — here!
I’m a Clinton-Era, desert storm Veteran.
I love this country. I was raised by a single-mother who was mistreated by my father and I never knew him.
My Mom came from an era of chivalry. She taught me so many quaint ideas of how to treat a lady. Never look inside a woman’s purse. Always open the passenger door of a car and let your girlfriend in first. Open doors for people (not just women.) Don’t sexualize women. Don’t treat them like objects. Be respectful, sensitive and kind. I learned so much from her.
In this day and age, this is likely viewed upon as being part of the patriarchy. As a middle aged man, I’ve come to accept that these traits are not always seen as respectful.
I’ve learned that the country I love and the social experiment that I’ve been a part of is mostly built on perception and maintaining that perception.
Social media has now taken on the push that cishet men are inherently evil. You were born this way and in spite of history that you’ve never been a contributor to, you’re inherently a part of it. No matter how you behave, you’re a part of this evil perpetual movement.
As a man who was brought up with what I thought were sound lessons, I’m now course correcting my own upbringing to allow space for more lessons and making sure I insert myself into society at large as an evolving, sensitive, caring and understanding human aside from my (apparently malleable) gender identity until it doesn’t serve someone else’s agenda.
As a veteran, I don’t feel appreciated.
As a man, I feel like I’m worthless in spite of trying to keep up with the changes.
As a child-free by circumstance person, I feel like I have no legacy.
I’m left knowing that in spite of our Country’s unparalleled freedom, this country that I love no longer loves me back. I feel great shame for being a part of an oppressive regime. All cops and military are bastards, right?
I feel so hopeless, tired and scared. I’ve invested decades of my life into what feels like a great lie. I know that it’s my own perception of reality that contributes to my sadness, yet grappling with my sadness leaves me full of doubt, a shattered sense of self and that I don’t know my authentic place in this world as a human.
I’m confused as to how to be, how to relate authentically. I’m watching people get sucked away by TikTok, mass narcissism, hateful messaging and if I stay away from social media, im treated with suspicion, called a Luddite or worse.
I could easily go find a bunch of machismo, who-cares-what-they think veterans and brethren of my own to relate in an echo chamber, but it feels hollow to my soul.
Everything feels so hollow to my soul today. I don’t know how to insert myself back into society in such a way that I can re-appraise the environment so that I can feel hopeful about it and change small things that I care about so that I no longer suffer.
I lament the way that our largesse as a society has come to this. It feels a lot of times like the 90’s were a truly enlightened time. There was less race baiting, culture jamming and whataboutism. You could be a sensitive man who knew how to turn a wrench, care about fashion and if you dared, you could proudly align yourself as a metrosexual. I don’t know what the exact definition of that is, but I took it to believe that you could let go of all the unnecessary machismo posturing, be self-aware, sensitive, kind and masculine at the same time. You could wear nice clothes, care about wine, cars, interior decorating and keep your “man card.”
No one really cares anymore. I feel like we are all in some strange performative duress to virtue signal, consume, grind and give until there’s simply nothing left.
I fucking hate John Cougar Mellancamp. “life goes on long after the thrill of living is gone.”
Sadder than anything Robert Smith of the Cure ever wrote.
I don’t wanna be here anymore.
You identified so many important things here, and you did so with vulnerability, so I will try to do the same:
First, thank you. Not just for your service to our country, but being that guy your Mom raised you to be. As someone who also was raised by a true single mother who never received help after my father left when I was 9, I learned how to be respectful and appreciate women from my mother as well. And that lead me at times to believing that if you put good out into the world, it will come back to you – well, I learned the hard way that it’s not always true. I have had my own struggles with wondering whether my 35 years of serving other in social work was the right decision as I have no idea how I am going to help my kids pay for college in the next 6-8 years. Using your Cure reference, this has led me to looking at my friends and asking the “why can’t I be you” question way too often.
In some ways, this is the path I chose, but truthfully, it chose me. Good or bad, it is who I am. That’s all we can be. I’m a middle aged, white man, and I feel the same way that you described – often not accepted or judged in a world that surrounds me. You can only be the person you are as well, and I understand that you are questioning that right now, but without knowing it, you showed strength through vulnerability to anyone reading your comment. That is going to help someone. You’ll never meet that person, but know your value is there, even if you don’t hear the appreciation.
One of the things I am most excited about professionally right now is Hennepin County having me coordinate a veteran specific suicide prevention cohort. We are in the process of identifying veterans with diverse experiences to work with us. While I’m proud of this, I also needed it. Find the thing you need. Go do it. You find that thing that both brings back your feeling of being appreciated, and I’m hoping you’ll want to be here again. Wishing you peace.
Don
Like my new friend Don, I am a long-time social worker who grew up in Philadelphia. We were once neighbors, but now we live in Minneapolis. Don is a good man who has been through a lot. His testimony is a very powerful statement about the importance of human compassion and consideration. His life has been a blessing to many. I encourage everyone I know to read his book.
Thank you, Michael. Humbled to read your comment, but I so appreciate it. As my grandmother Edie would say: we can only do what we can do.
Don