International Men’s Day

Caroline Nokes Excerpts

Thursday 21st November 2024 Commons Chamber

[Madam Deputy Speaker (Caroline Nokes)]

Order. Mr Shannon, interventions must be shorter than that. There will be plenty of opportunity to make a contribution, should you so wish, during the debate.

[Sam Rushworth]

I welcome the hon. Member’s intervention. I will come on to talk about men’s sheds—I met representatives of the Men’s Sheds Association on Tuesday in Speaker’s House.

Men are, indeed, more likely to take their own life. Boys are more likely to be excluded from school, and they are underachieving compared with girls at every level of education. That is because gender inequality is not only structural—by which I mean an unequal division of power and resources as assigned through our rules and institutions—but cultural. It is embedded in social attitudes and expectations around manhood and womanhood. It is here where gender inequality really harms men and boys.

I also recognise, as I attempt to frame this debate, that men, like women, are diverse. There is more than one way of being male. I refer here not only to sexuality, but to binary ideas of how men should behave. If Members were to visit my home on a summer night, they might find Mrs Rushworth in the garden lighting the barbecue and me in the kitchen preparing the salad. If they were to visit in the winter, they might find her bleeding the radiators while I am singing a lullaby to settle one of our children in bed. International Men’s Day is an opportunity to celebrate male diversity and to promote kinder, more emotionally connected and liberated versions of masculinity as positive male role models for boys.

I wish to focus the rest of my remarks on two concerning by-products of gender inequality that are prevalent in my constituency of Bishop Auckland—men’s mental health and the concerning rise of male suicide, particularly among young men, and boys’ underachievement at school—and why we must tackle those issues head-on for the benefit of both sexes.

The crisis in men’s mental health is one of the most significant issues of our time. It negatively impacts not only on the individuals concerned, but on their relationships with family, friends and work colleagues and, tragically, it is increasingly leading to suicide. In the UK, men are three times more likely to die by suicide than women, and it is now the leading cause of death of men under 50. The contributing factors are multiple and include debt, addiction, family breakdown and unfair deprivation of access to children, but what seems to compound all of them is loneliness and a sense of being trapped carrying burdens alone. Too often, the societal expectation that men be stoic, strong and emotionless leads to a suppression of feelings. From a young age, boys are taught to man up, to hide vulnerability and to suppress their emotions. That is a damaging narrative that not only impedes emotional wellbeing, but stifles open conversations about physical and mental health.

I pay tribute to the excellent organisations that are working to provide men and boys with the tools and space to talk openly about their feelings, without fear of judgment or stigma. One of them was mentioned a moment ago: this week, I met Rob Lloyd and John Latchford from Men’s Sheds, which provides spaces for men to come together and work on crafts, while developing friendships and a mutual support network. Another great example, which I am sure all Members will be familiar with in their constituencies, is Andy’s Man Club, which has groups all over the country that are helping to end the stigma around men’s mental health through the power of conversation.

A similar organisation in my constituency in south Durham is ManHealth, which works to raise awareness of and improve men’s physical and mental health. It organises men’s walks and peer support groups, which meet weekly. I attended one recently in my constituency, and found a group of men from all walks of life sat together in a circle. The session started with each man taking it in turns to update the group on their week, beginning by saying how they felt on a scale of one to 10. I sat listening, touched by the openness of those who were sharing, and the non-judgmental kindness of those listening and offering support.

Then the group leader came to me and asked, “Well, Sam, where are you this week?” I froze briefly, contemplating how I should respond. Do I quickly say something positive and move on, or should I be honest and make myself vulnerable? Do I tell the truth, that this week I am a five—not quite rock bottom but feeling little joy in life? Do I admit how anxious and out of place I have felt in my new role, how the online abuse that all MPs receive secretly gets to me, and how I lie awake at night feeling overwhelmed by the scale of the challenge of meeting my voters’ expectations? “Five.” I did it—I shared. And although I had feared that these men might struggle to relate to me, as a Member of this place, I found understanding nods and expressions of appreciation. It also lifted my spirits to be able to visit each of them one by one, and listen to the particular stories that they wanted to share with me. That is the thing about peer support: it is in the giving as well as in the receiving that people feel empowered.