In 2011, the U.S. Government Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality Department ran this billboard throughout the country that read: “This year thousands of men will die from stubbornness.” The implication was that many men would succumb to life-threatening physical and mental health illnesses due to a masculine resistance to seeking help. In the many years since, the wording has changed — now news articles and studies finger toxic masculinity and traditional masculine norms as the culprit — but the insinuation is the same.
Such judgmental assumptions (victim-blaming, really) lack compassion, curiosity and nuance – they also ignore larger truths. Many men, especially fathers, ignore their mental health struggles because of pressure to live up to their family’s and society’s expectations to appear in control, invulnerable. Ultimately, this hits men with a double gut punch: It compromises their mental health, and then their mental health symptoms go untreated.
Men face rigid gendered expectations — from within and without around fathering. And, when it comes to the economy of parenting, many fathers still feel pressure to be the primary provider. This is often true in heterosexual marriages even though the share of women who earn as much as or significantly more than their husbands has roughly tripled over the past 50 years.
When this topic came up during research for my first book, a common dynamic occurred: Often, a guy in the circle would mention feeling like a failure for not being able to afford a nicer home in a better neighborhood, better health insurance, school tuition or summer vacations. But if he took on extra jobs to increase his income, he felt guilty for not being present for his family: a lose-lose equation. Inevitably, downcast heads would nod in agreement. Even when a dad is the stay-at-home parent, old expectations hold fast: 64% percent of Americans, including both Baby Boomers and Millennials, feel these men should also make a financial contribution to the household.
The emotional cost of parenting can feel equally worrisome. Many fathers spend far more time co-parenting than previous generations, and 85% of dads say that being a parent is the most, or one of the most, important parts of their identity. Amidst the elusive have-it-all quest many contemporary parents experience, as recently as 2019, 63% of fathers felt they spent too little time with their kids. Despite this, cultural stereotypes still abound, causing many fathers to feel judged by their partners for their parenting skills and lament that there aren’t enough father-specific parenting resources or public spaces that feel welcoming to them.
I experienced these latter two deficits when my son, now 14, was a toddler. My wife had already had a child before our son, my stepdaughter, and was well-connected to other mothers through her work as a homebirth midwife. As a first-time father, I couldn’t find any local support groups that welcomed fathers. When I took our son to age-appropriate classes, I was surrounded by mothers who weren’t welcoming, even when I asked to join their playgroups.
Dads, like a lot of other Americans, are struggling in other ways, too. A 2024 survey found that 44% of the fathers felt burned out and 75% of fathers felt isolated. (This isolation is common among many men, who lack the emotional safety nets that women are far better at creating and maintaining.) The struggles are especially pronounced for new dads who face a 30% increase in the risk of depression and anxiety as their child approaches their first birthday.
In my research, some men initially mistook their depressive symptoms for stress, which many men believe is their birthright. (There is a link between the two: Researchers have found that men’s untreated depression can trace back to chronic, untreated stress; distinguishing between the two is important.) A middle-aged federal worker spoke to this problem when he told me, “I never gave two thoughts about stress. I was always taught that men were supposed to push past their own s**t to provide and show up for their families.” He told me this after surviving a stress-related heart attack
This man also suffered from depression, which, as in the case of many men, went undiagnosed through no fault of his own. Men have far higher rates of suicide, substance abuse and what’s generally referred to as “externalizing” behavior (taking dangerous risks and reacting with aggressive behavior), yet women are diagnosed with depression at twice the rate of men. This oversight plays out in the media, where articles sometimes display more empathy for women’s mental health struggles than men’s. Perhaps it’s no surprise, then, that healthcare professionals sometimes underdiagnose — or misdiagnose — depression in men.
It’s easy to dismiss men as culprits of their own rigid masculinity. But this superficial assessment lacks understanding of (not to mention empathy for) cultural expectations and how men navigate stress. Men experience heightened levels of cortisol and adrenaline when stressed, as well as (and this is important), stronger reactions to cortisol from acute stressors than women, both of which trigger fight-flight-or-freeze reactions. What’s more, their prefrontal cortex, the seat of emotional responses, is on overdrive, which makes them more reactive, impatient and irritable — and makes it harder for them to calmly communicate and feel empathy.
I’m not saying this to excuse men’s behavior. I’m saying it to provide context: to help people understand how hormonal and neurological differences can compromise men’s ability to regulate stress.
It’s tempting to tell men to stop, well, being men — to just open up, as women do, and find other men to talk with so they can feel more connected and practice better self-care. Many men, straight and gay, will agree to this approach in theory, but these are not easy things to do, even if the will is there. For years, I have tried in vain to have these kinds of conversations with male friends and have sought out men’s groups. The closest I have come to having the kinds of vulnerable conversations I sought was during book research in a men’s prison group.
For this and other reasons, many dads — and most men, really — could benefit from what they consider verboten: conversations that normalize talking about mental health. They need our encouragement to seek out resources and support. Yes, this may mean that we perform some of the initial legwork for them, despite the pushback in some circles against helping men. At the very least, it would help to let dads know we appreciate the sacrifices they make and to help them feel more supported in small ways.
Perhaps this is the best gift we can give dads — on Father’s Day and every day.