If you scroll through social media for more than five minutes, you’ll come across a post telling you that men don’t talk about their feelings. That men bottle things up. That they suffer in silence.
And there’s truth in that narrative. The statistics are well-documented: men account for around three quarters of all suicides in the UK. They are less likely to access psychological therapies. They are less likely to visit their GP about emotional difficulties. The pattern is real, and it’s serious.
But here’s the thing that rarely gets discussed: we could spend up to 40% of our adult lives at work. That’s not a small number. It’s not a footnote. It means that for many men, the workplace isn’t just where they earn a living — it’s one of the most significant social environments they’ll ever be part of.
So why do we keep having this conversation as though work doesn’t exist?
The workplace is already a place where men connect
When people talk about men not opening up, they tend to picture therapy rooms, GP surgeries, or kitchen table conversations. But for many men, the place they’re most likely to talk — if they talk at all — is at work. A quiet word with a colleague in the van. A comment over a coffee. A moment at the end of a shift when the guard comes down slightly.
These aren’t formal disclosures. They don’t look like what we’ve been trained to recognise as “talking about mental health.” But they matter enormously.
The question isn’t just “how do we get men to talk?” It’s “are we paying attention to the ways they already do?”
What workplaces get wrong
Too often, workplace mental health initiatives are designed around a model that assumes everyone communicates in the same way. Posters on the wall. Wellbeing webinars. An open invitation to “reach out if you’re struggling.”
These aren’t bad things. But they tend to appeal to people who are already comfortable with emotional language. For many men — particularly those in traditionally male-dominated sectors like construction, engineering, transport, or emergency services — the barrier isn’t a lack of willingness. It’s that the format doesn’t fit.
If your entire wellbeing strategy relies on people self-identifying as struggling and then voluntarily seeking help, you’ve already lost a significant portion of your workforce.
What actually works
The evidence points us towards something more practical and, frankly, more honest.
Normalise the conversation at every level. When senior leaders talk openly about pressure — not in a performative way, but in a matter-of-fact way — it shifts what’s considered acceptable. Men are more likely to talk when they see other men doing it without consequence.
Build it into the structure, not just the culture. Regular check-ins, supervision, peer support, and risk assessments for psychosocial hazards aren’t “nice to haves.” They’re how you create an environment where people don’t have to make the difficult decision to ask for help — because someone’s already asking them.
Train managers to notice, not just to signpost. Most line managers aren’t therapists, and they shouldn’t be. But they can learn to spot changes in behaviour, to ask a straightforward question, and to know what to do with the answer.
Respect how men communicate. Side-by-side conversations — while working, while driving, while doing something else — are often more comfortable than face-to-face ones. Design your support around that reality, not around a textbook model.
This isn’t about fixing men
Let’s be clear: the problem isn’t that men are broken. The problem is that many workplaces haven’t created the conditions for honest conversation. When we say “men don’t talk,” what we often mean is “we haven’t built environments where they feel they can.”
That’s not a men’s issue. That’s an organisational one. And it’s solvable.
If your workplace is serious about supporting the mental health of all employees — not just those who are already comfortable seeking help — then it’s time to look at the structures, the culture, and the everyday interactions that either open the door or quietly keep it shut.
Because men are talking. Just not always in the ways we expect. The question is whether anyone’s listening.
If you’d like to explore how your organisation can better support men’s mental health at work, or if you’re looking at your psychosocial risk management under ISO 45003, get in touch. We’d welcome the conversation.
About Workplace Mental Health