Skip to content

The Men We Don’t Hear From

Gabriel J. Merrin

June 30, 2026

Portrait of a smiling person with dark curly hair

Gabriel "Joey" Merrin


For years, we’ve taught people to ask, “Are you okay?” It’s a good question, but it assumes the person struggling will tell us. With men, that assumption often breaks down.

In 2024, nearly 49,000 Americans died by suicide, and about eight in ten were men. Women report depression and suicidal thoughts more often, yet men die by suicide at about four times the rate of women. Researchers call this the gender paradox, and it signals that we are missing something. That gap, and the silence behind it, is what keeps pulling at my attention.

Part of what we are up against is masculinity itself, or at least the narrow version many boys are taught. It is not that men don’t feel depression or despair. It is that many learn early to be self-reliant, stay in control, and handle things on their own. These “tough it out” scripts get praised as strength, and they quietly teach boys that needing help is a weakness. The result is men who delay reaching out, sometimes not until a crisis occurs or until it’s too late. 

Disconnection deepens the risk. Loneliness is not just painful; it raises the odds of depression and suicide, and too many boys and young men are growing up without the close relationships that protect them.

The hope is not in convincing men to be more like everyone else. It is in building help that meets men where they already are.

Gabriel J. Merrin

Associate Professor of Human Development and Family Science

Much of my own research has followed boys and men our systems tend to overlook: youth involved with gangs, adolescents in the child welfare system, and fathers carrying untreated trauma. Across these groups, the same pattern appears. Help exists, but rarely in a form that feels usable.

What gives me hope is that the field is shifting its question from “Why won’t men get help?” to “How do we build help that fits men’s lives?” When we frame reaching out as a sign of responsibility and strength rather than weakness, men respond. Peer-led programs that reach young people before a crisis are showing real promise. And young men who would never walk into a clinic will often look for support online, where they already spend their time.

The hope is not in convincing men to be more like everyone else. It is in building help that meets men where they already are.

This is where I want to spend the next stage of my work, including new research on how young people seek mental health support in digital spaces and a new study following college-age men as they navigate masculinity, loneliness, stress, and the decision to ask for help. The conversation about men’s mental health is finally opening up. Our job is to turn that openness into help that saves lives.

Lerner Center for Public Health Promotion and Population Health