We are in the midst of a profound crisis in men’s mental health — and it is one many of us are too uncomfortable to acknowledge. Men account for nearly three out of four “deaths of despair” in the United States — suicides, drug overdoses, and alcohol-related fatalities. That is not a statistic that can be ignored. It is a signal of deep and systemic distress, echoing across classrooms, workplaces, and homes.
This crisis does not affect all men equally. The men most at risk are those lower down the economic ladder, especially those without a four-year college degree. For these men, the collapse of traditionally “male” sectors of the labor market — in manufacturing, construction, and other physical trades — has not just been a loss of income. It has been a loss of identity, of purpose, and, often, of dignity.
It is no coincidence that the sharpest declines in male mental health mirror the sharpest declines in male labor force participation. These are not separate issues — they are two faces of the same social collapse. Yet despite these trends, boys and men are half as likely as girls and women to receive treatment for mental health disorders. This isn’t because they’re suffering less — it’s because they are speaking up less, and being heard even less than that.
One of the most promising paths forward, both for men’s economic prospects and their mental health, lies in what I call the “HEAL” professions. These are jobs in health, education, and literacy — sectors that are growing rapidly, largely resistant to automation, and profoundly human-centered.
Yet they remain dramatically female-dominated:
With the exception of nursing, the male share in these occupations is not just too low — it’s declining.
These are not just jobs; they are roles that carry meaning, offer stability, and foster connection. Exactly the ingredients that so many men are lacking—and craving. In fact, the absence of men in these fields is both a missed opportunity for men and a loss for society. We need more male teachers, more male nurses, more male mentors. And young men need to be able to see that care work is not only noble — it is masculine.
Men’s mental health cannot be addressed solely in a therapist’s office or through awareness campaigns — though both are necessary. It must also be addressed in the structures of work, education, and family life. We must stop treating the problems of men as the fault of men and start recognizing the structural disadvantages they face.
This is not a matter of sentiment. It is a matter of policy. It is a matter of justice. And quite possibly, survival.
Because until we take men’s mental health seriously — with compassion rather than condemnation — we will continue to see the symptoms in suicides, addiction, loneliness, and social detachment. We will continue to mourn in silence, rather than heal in solidarity.
Let us begin by listening. And then, let us act.