If the statement “nobody cares about men” triggers an eyeroll or a reflexive urge to argue, pause for a moment. Suspend the outrage that’s been conditioned by years of divisive narratives and take a hard look at the reality unfolding around us.
The men’s health crisis in Australia is not a theory, it’s a tragedy playing out in homes, workplaces, and communities. This weekend, the nation was rocked again by the suicide of a former AFL footballer, mere months after his twin brother took his own life earlier this year.
These heartbreaking losses are not isolated; they are part of a broader epidemic that claims thousands of Australian men annually, with little fanfare or action to address it. The truth is stark: men are dying, and society’s response is often indifference, dismissal, or worse – blame.
The crisis is compounded by a cultural shift where sexism towards men has not only become commonplace but is, in some circles, celebrated as a virtue. Terms like “toxic masculinity” and “mansplaining” are thrown around with reckless abandon, framing men as perpetual oppressors while ignoring their struggles.
Identity politics, amplified by media, government, and academia, has leaned heavily into an oppressor-versus-victim mentality, casting men – particularly white men – as the root of societal ills.
This narrative conveniently overlooks the fact that the vast majority of men are not elite businessmen or politicians wielding unimaginable power. They are ordinary tradies, teachers, fathers, and sons who are navigating a world that increasingly tells them their existence is a problem.
The result is a culture that shames men for existing as they are, while offering little empathy when they falter.
Over my 43 years, I’ve personally lost 11 friends and family members to suicide – 10 of them male.
This personal toll mirrors a national tragedy, one exemplified by the Selwood brothers and other high-profile losses like Robin Williams, who took his life in 2014, and Australian musician Chris Bailey of The Saints, who died by suicide in 2022. These stories are not anomalies; they are symptoms of a deeper, systemic neglect.
The Selwood tragedy and a national epidemic
Adam Selwood, a West Coast Eagles premiership winner, died by suicide at 41, just three months after his twin brother Troy, a former Brisbane Lions player, took his own life in February 2025.
Adam had planned a selfless act to honour Troy, aiming to raise $10,000 for the mental health charity zero2hero through the HBF Run for a Reason half marathon. “This cause is deeply personal to me,” he wrote, describing the run as part of his “healing journey” and a commitment to raising awareness about suicide prevention.
He urged others to seek help, noting that Troy’s death had already prompted some to speak up and access care. Yet, despite his efforts to channel grief into action, Adam succumbed to the same darkness that claimed his brother.
The AFL community, still reeling from Troy’s death, was left devastated, with figures like former coach John Worsfold and Geelong’s Cam Mooney expressing profound grief.
This tragedy underscores a broader crisis. In Australia, suicide is a leading cause of death for men, particularly those aged 15-44. According to the Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS), 3,249 people died by suicide in 2023, with males accounting for 75.6% of these deaths – 2,459 men compared to 790 women.
This translates to roughly seven men per day, a rate three times higher than that for women. Men aged 35-44, like the Selwood brothers, are particularly vulnerable, with suicide rates peaking at 27.6 per 100,000 in this group.
Over the past decade, male suicide rates have remained stubbornly high, while female rates, though still tragic, are lower and more stable.
Mental health challenges are universal, but men face unique pressures. Depression and anxiety affect both genders, but men are less likely to seek help, with only 27% of men accessing mental health services compared to 40% of women, according to Beyond Blue.
When men do open up, the response is not always supportive. Cultural expectations of stoicism, coupled with a growing societal tendency to dismiss male vulnerability, create a perfect storm.
The ABS notes that men are more likely to die by suicide after a single attempt, often choosing more lethal methods, which reflects not just despair but a lack of intervention points.
Roots of indifference
For generations, men have been taught to suppress emotions, to “tough it out” rather than express pain. This stoicism, once a cultural ideal, is now compounded by a new barrier: a society that often ridicules or punishes male vulnerability.
The rise of identity politics has entrenched a binary worldview, casting men as oppressors and women as victims. This oversimplification ignores the reality that most men, like most people, are not wielding systemic power but navigating their own struggles.
Terms like “toxic masculinity” imply that maleness itself is a problem, while “mansplaining” reduces male communication to condescension, fostering resentment rather than understanding. These concepts, pushed by media and academia, have seeped into everyday discourse, making it harder for men to express themselves without fear of judgment.
The lack of empathy for men is evident in policy and public discourse. In 2023, over 2,400 men and boys died by suicide, compared to 203 women and girls, yet political leaders rarely address this gap.
Senator Pauline Hanson noted that on International Men’s Day 2024, no Labor politician acknowledged the crisis, reflecting a broader reluctance to prioritise men’s issues for fear of appearing “unprogressive”.
Media narratives often amplify this neglect, portraying men as perpetrators rather than people who might also need support. When men’s mental health is discussed, it’s frequently framed as a secondary concern, overshadowed by other social issues deemed more “urgent.”
This indifference has real consequences. Boys grow up in a world where their struggles are minimised, where seeking help can feel like admitting failure.
Men, particularly those in high-pressure environments like professional sports, face additional scrutiny. The AFL, despite its community influence, has been slow to address mental health systemically.
The deaths of Adam and Troy Selwood have sparked calls for a dedicated mental health round, with figures like Jimmy Bartel and Wayne Schwass urging the league to break the stigma. Yet, as Schwass noted, the AFL has resisted such initiatives, citing “too many themed rounds”.
Factors driving male suicide
Several factors converge to make suicide a uniquely male crisis. Economic pressures play a significant role, with men often bearing the burden of being primary providers.
The ABS reports that unemployment and financial stress are strongly correlated with male suicide, particularly in regional areas where job losses in industries like mining and agriculture hit hard.
Relationship breakdowns are another trigger, with men more likely to face social isolation post-separation due to limited support networks. Unlike women, who are more likely to maintain social connections, men often rely on partners for emotional support, leaving them vulnerable when relationships end.
Substance abuse also disproportionately affects men, who are more likely to use alcohol or drugs to cope with distress. The National Drug Strategy Household Survey shows that 17% of men engage in risky drinking compared to 10% of women, often masking underlying mental health issues.
Access to lethal means, such as firearms in rural areas, further elevates risk, with men accounting for 90% of firearm-related suicides.
Social isolation is a growing concern, particularly for young men. The rise of digital culture has reduced face-to-face interaction, and men, socialised to avoid emotional intimacy, are less likely to build resilient support systems.
This isolation is compounded by a lack of male-specific mental health resources. While women’s health initiatives are well-funded, men’s programs, like those offered by Movember, struggle for visibility and funding.
Breaking the cycle: A call for change
Addressing this crisis requires a cultural and systemic shift. First, society must reject the notion that men’s struggles are less worthy of attention. This starts with challenging sexist tropes that dismiss male pain or vilify masculinity.
Media and policymakers should promote balanced narratives that recognise men as individuals with vulnerabilities, not as a monolithic group responsible for societal woes. Schools and workplaces can play a role by fostering environments where boys and men feel safe expressing emotions without fear of ridicule.
Investment in male-specific mental health services is critical. Programs like zero2hero, supported by Adam Selwood, show the value of targeted interventions that empower young people to address mental health proactively.
Governments should fund community-based initiatives, particularly in regional areas, where suicide rates are highest. These could include peer support groups, crisis helplines staffed by trained male counsellors, and outreach campaigns that normalise help-seeking.
The success of Movember’s mental health campaigns demonstrates that men respond to messaging tailored to their experiences – more of this is needed.
The AFL and other sporting bodies have a unique opportunity to lead. A mental health round, as proposed by Brayden Ainsworth and others, could leverage the league’s platform to reach millions, encouraging open conversations and directing fans to resources like Lifeline (13 11 14).
Such initiatives must go beyond symbolism, integrating ongoing support for players and former athletes, who often face identity crises post-career.
Finally, individuals can make a difference by checking in on the men in their lives. A simple conversation can be a lifeline, as Adam Selwood himself noted when reflecting on Troy’s impact. We must create a culture where men feel heard, not judged, and where their pain is met with compassion, not dismissal.
Thank you Jakob,
Excellent article with so many truths, unfortunately you will probably be vilified for writing it rather than society getting the message that it is all about a more balanced narrative where we are all equals, with the same capacity to do good or evil. Ultimately three words resolve all our indifferences ‘Unconditional Mutual Respect’…but humanity will never get this, as it is all about me and if I do not agree or understand something it must be bad and should be destroyed.
Jakob a great article and so glad you have bought this conversation to light. Living in a rural area where there were the 2020 fires and now a tough time with no rain, cost of living and insurance rises, the number of suicides is heartbreaking. All ages of men, including older farmers. Connecting with the “unbreakable farmer”, Warren Davis at the Corryong Man from Snowy River Festival in 2023 and listening to the stories. Also what is becoming very alarming is the increase in financial elder abuse occurring with the older farmer. Family and others swooping in at
a time of most vulnerability, isolation, loneliness and mental health conditions. We do need a more balanced narrative.
The writer might be interested to know that he has very much incorrectly used both the terms “toxic masculinity” and “mansplaining” – and at the risk of “woman-splaining”, let me correct your definitions.
The term “toxic masculinity” refers to the toxic traits exhibited by men in particular – although some women also exhibit these traits – which are what you have referred to throughout this article… it’s the not showing emotion, not seeking help, bottling up feelings until they burst, blaming women for their loss of support network after a breakup… all of the things the writer mentioned, which actually lead to men’s suicide. Never has anyone defined men or “man-ness” as being “toxic”. When we used that descriptor, it’s specifically referencing the toxic traits, not “men in general”.
The term “Mansplaining” specifically refers to a man explaining a topic to a woman who already has extensive knowledge of that particular topic, or who also didn’t ask for an explanation. A classic example is a man who was at a University lecture who directed a woman to her own published journal to learn more about the topic of the lecture, even though she was the guest speaker. It is not used “every time a man explains something”. I believe the writer is either being disingenuous, or is not clearly aware it has a very specific definition.
In saying that, I am in complete agreeance with the writer that there needs to be more done to support men’s mental health, particularly as it intersects with so many other facets of society, including domestic violence, work life/home life balance, health, parenting, sports, role-modeling for the next generation and much more. I think there are some really good tangible suggestions for making progress here and we should be working together to do more. However, essentially blaming women and the narrative suggested here that we’re somehow “bullying men to suicide” by enforcing our own boundaries as women and putting labels on the toxic traits that we will not abide, is not it bro. Correcting the definitions above will go a long way to both the writer understanding the terms properly, and the wider audience reach also being adequately educated about those terms – because as it stands, they are very wrong and misleading.
The obsession with outrage culture, fixating on terms like “mansplaining” and “toxic masculinity,” dilutes the article’s core issue. It’s a distraction, not a dialogue. Some degree of so called toxic masculinity fuels courage, like my husband, who’d instinctively risk himself to protect ANY woman under attack, yet today’s warped definitions would label him toxic for being a masculine man. It’s absurd. Those attacking this article, leading with outrage over “toxic masculinity” and “mansplaining,” are the problem, not the solution. Their performative critiques, dripping with their own toxicity, undermine the issue’s gravity. In matters this serious, silence beats sanctimonious noise. Honestly, I’m wasting my breath here, you’ll never get it. It’s a shame, too, because men’s suicides leave behind women and children. Maybe consider that before minimising this topic with your own “toxic” agenda and just zip it. The world won’t end, and your halo’s still shiny without the virtue signal lady.
This is so true. I was born with GAD – Generalised Anxiety Disorder. At times of personal stress, it would cause clinical depression. I was seeing 2 physiatrists, once a week in Melbourne. At the time, GAD was not listed in the Psychiatrist’s Manual “Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders” Hence, they both stupidly took the view: “If it’s not in the manual, then it doesn’t exist” FFS!. Just like being Gay used to be in the same manual. We know that about 11% of people are born gay. It is not a lifestyle choice, and the same applies for being lefthanded or kinky, and drug or alcohol, addicts. We are now coming to the conclusion that an as yet unknown percentage of people are born transgender. Please accept that you are born with whatever you have, and if necessary, seek help from a reputable psychiatrist. Ask them if they believe in the teachings of Freud. If they do, don’t touch them “with a 10-foot bargepole” and keep looking. And be aware that psychiatrists have a suicide rate 4 times higher than the average in the community. I finally got lucky with a new psychiatrist in the year 2000, that my new wife (a specialist ophthalmologist herself) found for me. And make sure that you have an understanding GP, one who listens to you, rather than just hands out scripts. I wish you all the best. It is a tough world and “life was not meant to be easy” However, with the right help, all problems can be managed, and you will “live happily ever after”. It is not a fairy table, as that is how I now live.
So true about the understanding GP. I asked my husband to see a GP and get a mental health plan. The GP convinced him he didn’t need it (I’m not sure how hard he had to try). 2 years later I would have loved to be in the room when the police questioned him regarding my husband’s suicide
I am glad you continued your journey. So many people don’t know that you can find a psychiatrist or psychologist that you can mesh with. Search until you find one you can trust. I agree on the Freudian practitioners.
This article raises important points about men’s mental health, but I’m really concerned by the way it frames the issue — especially for a publication focused on aged care.
Using personal anecdotes like “10 out of 11 of my friends who died by suicide were men” is emotionally powerful, but it’s not the same as evidence. According to the Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS), in 2023, 3,249 people died by suicide — 2,459 were men and 790 were women. That’s around three men for every one woman. These deaths are tragic and preventable — but they are not caused by feminism or women naming poor behaviour. The real drivers are complex: relationship breakdowns, financial stress, trauma, chronic illness, substance use, and barriers to help-seeking.
The article also misrepresents “toxic masculinity”. It’s not saying men are toxic — it refers to harmful behaviours and norms (like emotional repression or aggression) that many boys and men are socialised into. The term exists to help men unpack these patterns, not to shame them.
Male suicide rates in Australia hit a high in the late 1990s, with 1997 recording one of the worst years — especially for men aged 15–44, where the rate spiked to 14.8 per 100,000. That surge wasn’t random: it followed a recession, rising youth unemployment, limited mental health services, and a culture that told men to “toughen up” instead of reach out. Back then, stigma around mental illness was strong, and support was scarce — especially in rural areas where rates were even higher. Things improved through the 2000s thanks to public health campaigns and better services, but rates crept up again in the 2010s. As of 2023, the rate has dropped to 11.8 — still too high. I raise this because I don’t see clear evidence that “toxic masculinity” caused that 1990s peak. Is there data that shows a direct link? I’m open to seeing it.
Yes, all suicides are tragic. But suggesting that women calling out harmful behaviour is causing men to die by suicide is unsupported and unhelpful. I’d love to see HelloCare take a more trauma-informed, evidence-based approach — one that elevates men’s mental health!
One major missed opportunity here is the complete absence of discussion about male suicide in older adults. Men aged 85 and over have the highest suicide rate in the country, at over 40 deaths per 100,000 (ABS, 2022). This is a silent epidemic — often linked to grief, chronic illness, isolation and a lack of targeted aged care support — and it deserves more attention.
Do I say anything, don’t I say anything, how can I say anything?
This is such a sensitive issue. Hard to even broach, for fear that people misread an opinion or repurpose sentiment for nefarious ends. I think, by and large, this is a positive attempt at raising awareness of an important issue.
However, phrases like “sexism towards men is celebrated as a virtue” are somewhat inflammatory, while terms like “mansplaining” and “toxic masculinity”, treated as purely negative, risk being read as dismissive of their intended function, which originally was to call out specific behaviours, not maleness itself. Trying to remain constructive is imperative.
But your article brings to the fore an issue that I feel many men grapple with. Good men (and there are many of us) are well aware of their inherent and inherited privilege, but that doesn’t change the truth that, culturally, we’ve reached a point where many men are feeling the burden of a few men’s abhorrent behaviours – past and present.
Acknowledging there are many female, trans, child, and male victims, the fact that young men are drifting toward regressive and often misogynistic views, while young women are becoming more progressive and values-driven, is a troubling symptom of an ostracising society.
The thing is, it’s also very hard for men to talk about this issue because:
a) well, men find it very hard to talk about things, and
b) there is a fear they might be vilified if they do.
No one is born bad, but experiences shape people. The cycle of abuse is not a new idea, but the investment and initiatives required to stop it just aren’t enough.
There has to be a better way of redressing the balance, without dismissing or invalidating the opinions or experiences of victims, or alienating a generation of young men already feeling burdened, confused, and left behind.
Thank you, Jakob, so much pain and suffering in our male community, let’s recognise that. Generational male trauma combined with risky behaviours and mental health self-medicating. So sad !. Thank you for sharing your option and personal story. That’s what we should be able to do without being attacked.