Reimagining support, reframing masculinity
Â鶹ԭ´´ University and College Counselling September 2025

Despite growing awareness of student mental health, male students remain significantly underrepresented in support services and overrepresented in student suicide statistics. At Sheffield Hallam University (SHU), a suite of qualitative and quantitative initiatives – including cross-departmental collaborations and peer-led innovations – have sought to address these disparities.

This article explores cultural, systemic and psychological factors contributing to male students’ mental health challenges and offers a case study of SHU’s approach, framed within a broader national context. Drawing on research projects, student data analytics and practice-based developments, we consider how gendered and racialised norms interact with institutional structures and how inclusive, proactive strategies can support greater engagement and wellbeing outcomes. Findings from research, practice and collaboration offer insights for institutions seeking to respond more meaningfully to this high-risk group.Ìý

Silent struggles, visible gaps

There has been a longstanding and well-documented reluctance among men to identify and seek support for mental health issues.¹ Male university students in UK higher education are situated at a critical intersection of vulnerability, risk and invisibility: age, gender, isolation and academic pressure. The most recent National Review of Higher Education Student Suicide Deaths found that 68% of all student suicides involved men, despite them forming less than half of the student population.² These figures are part of a long-established national trend in which men are less likely to access mental health support, with help-seeking behaviours often hindered by social norms around masculinity, self-reliance and emotional suppression.³Ìý

At SHU, this gendered disparity and engagement gap has catalysed a university-wide effort to reframe how we understand and respond to male mental health. Building on a growing body of internal research and sector collaboration, we have explored how services can move from passive availability to active inclusion, creating conditions in which male students not only feel able to seek help but also want to.Ìý

Masculinity, identity and silenceÌý

At SHU, researcher Dr Claire Wolstenholme’s 2024 article revealed a central tension: male students felt both scrutinised as beneficiaries of unearned privilege and silenced in their emotional experiences.^4Ìý

This sense of emotional illegitimacy can prevent male students from naming their distress, let alone seeking help for it. When men are socialised to see help-seeking as weakness, and then told they are already privileged, their internal conflict increases. Instead of accessing support, they may withdraw further.Ìý

This paradox mirrors Robb and Buxton’s (2017) assertion that young men are socialised into emotional restriction and the performance of strength.⁵ SHU’s findings suggest that for many male students, especially those from working-class or racially minoritised backgrounds, internalising distress is perceived as safer than seeking help and being misunderstood or dismissed.Ìý

This gendered experience is not only individual but structural. Mental health services across the sector are often described, both explicitly and implicitly, as spaces better suited to the communicative and emotional styles socialised into women.⁶ The language and framing of many mental health services, centred around openness, emotional literacy and selfdisclosure, can feel alienating to men whose social scripts do not include or reward such behaviour.Ìý

Understanding male engagementÌý

In parallel with qualitative research, SHU’s Student Success and Engagement Team (SSET) conducted a data-led enquiry into patterns of male student engagement with university services, wellbeing provision and academic support. Their analysis drew from Customer Relationship Management (CRM) activity logs, student case data and demographic engagement mapping.Ìý

Key findings included:Ìý

• Lower rates of help-seeking and academic contact among male students, particularly during critical transition periods (e.g. semester one, post-Easter slump).
• Disengagement often preceded crisis: missed lectures, silence from academic advisers and withdrawal from digital platforms were common in cases where mental health difficulties emerged later.
• Male students from minority ethnic or working-class backgrounds were overrepresented in early withdrawal or academic failure groups, yet underrepresented in pastoral or wellbeing referrals.
• Mistrust and invisibility: survey data indicated a perception among many male students that ‘services aren’t for people like me,’ with formal wellbeing systems viewed as impersonal, bureaucratic or irrelevant. Ìý

These insights have been vital in shaping interventions across student services, including targeted wellbeing campaigns, staff information sessions on gendered signals of distress, and further supporting the design of peer-led approaches.Ìý

Intersectionality in practiceÌý

Recognising that male student identity is not monolithic, a parallel study at SHU explored the perspectives of ethnically minoritised male students and their preferences for mental health support. Findings from this work included how racialised experiences compound the help-seeking gap.⁷ Black, Asian and minoritised ethnic male and international male students shared experiences of being stereotyped, overlooked or structurally excluded from institutional narratives around care. This project was developed in response to the absence of intersectional insights in much of the existing male mental health discourse.Ìý

Key findings included:Ìý

• Cultural stigma and distrust: students from ethnically minoritised backgrounds spoke of cultural or familial stigma around mental health, compounded by a historical distrust of institutional services. This created a double barrier to access.
• Stereotyping: for ethnically minoritised male students, in particular, the intersection of racial and gendered expectations was acute. Participants described being subject to hypermasculine stereotypes, where strength and emotional control were not only gendered norms but racialised expectations.
• Lack of representation: students expressed a desire to see more culturally competent and racially diverse staff within wellbeing and broader student support services. Representation and experiential similarity were seen as crucial to trust-building and understanding of cultural experiences.
• Preference for informal, embedded support: many participants felt more comfortable accessing support that was not labelled as mental health – for example, wellbeing embedded in faith spaces, academic programmes or social clubs. There was strong endorsement for identity-affirming, peer-led spaces.

This complexity urges us to reconsider male student mental health as a singular category. For many ethnically minoritised male students, the barriers to accessing support are multiple and compounding. Our work must respond with equal complexity, designing and implementing interventions that encompass intersectional, identity-affirming offers that reflect the layered realities of students’ lives.Ìý

Peer support in actionÌý

In response to the intersecting challenges faced by male students, emotional isolation, cultural messaging and a lack of spaces that feel safe or relevant, SHU launched Hallam Talk Club, a peer-led support group specifically for men. Drawing on the national Talk Club model, this space was co-developed with students and built around a structured check-in format, encouraging regular reflection on how individuals are feeling and why.Ìý

The group is co-facilitated by trained male students, with professional oversight and intentionally designed as a non-clinical, confidential and culturally credible environmentÌý

Rather than framing wellbeing as a response to crisis, Talk Club positions emotional expression as a normal, ongoing part of being human, and of being a man. It helps participants make sense of their inner world, not through diagnosis or directive advice, but through presence, resonance and collective holding. The group’s power lies not in solving problems, but in creating space to name them without shame.Ìý

Findings from our qualitative research project,⁸ underscore the group’s impact:Ìý

• Increased emotional literacy: students reported a growing confidence in identifying, naming and expressing their feelings – many for the first time in a male-only space.
• Dramatic reduction in isolation: participants often described a sense of profound relief at simply being heard by other men.
• Reframed masculinity: through shared vulnerability, students began to reconfigure their understanding of what it means to be a man, where strength included empathy, openness and honesty rather than stoicism or silence.Ìý

Talk Club has become more than a support group; it is a living counter-narrative to dominant masculine norms. It illustrates that men do want to talk, and will talk, when the environment is safe, the facilitators are credible and the cultural permission is present. In this space, male students are not problems to be fixed, but people to be heard. Vulnerability is not weakness; it is relational courage.Ìý

As the group continues to evolve, it informs wider institutional learning around co-produced, identity-responsive mental health work. In helping male students connect with each other, and with themselves, Talk Club models a quiet, revolutionary truth: the opposite of isolation is not intervention, it’s connection.Ìý

Future challenges and sector learningÌý

While institutional data sharpen our focus, numbers alone cannot tell the full story. To truly understand the mental health barriers facing male students, we must look beyond service thresholds, risk registers and inwardfacing systemic analysis, towards the deeper cultural narratives that shape identity, emotion and the meaning of support-seeking. This reality is unfolding within a wider, increasingly influential cultural context, one that universities can no longer afford to overlook.Ìý

The 2025 Movember Report⁹ describes the rapid rise of so-called masculinity influencers on social media, figures who promote rigid ideals of manhood, emotional suppression and hostility towards mental health support. With over 63% of young men aged 16–25 regularly engaging with this content, the messages are potent: vulnerability equals weakness; support-seeking is emasculation; you are on your own. While some influencers present as motivational, their core messages often reinforce hyper-individualism, adversarial gender dynamics and shame-based self-comparison. The psychological fallout is real. The report found that young men exposed to such content report higher rates of worthlessness, increased risk-taking and decreased willingness to prioritise their own wellbeing.Ìý

For many young men arriving at university, already negotiating transitions in identity, independence and belonging, this cultural noise can be deafening. In suchÌýa climate, seeking help may feel like a betrayal of masculinity. The barriers to support are no longer just structural; they are psychological, emotional and deeply gendered.

Holding space as quiet resistanceÌý

In this environment, holding space for male vulnerability is not just a question of service access – it is an act of quiet resistance. It demands institutional courage, cultural credibility and a commitment to relationship over referral. The question is no longer ‘Why aren’t men talking?’ but ‘What messages, structures and silences are telling them not to?’Ìý

At SHU, we are learning that supporting male student mental health is not simply about expanding provision, it is about making that provision resonate. It is about reflecting diverse masculinities across the wellbeing offer, not as problems to be fixed, but as people to be understood.Ìý

Our evolving approach is informed by both data and dialogue. From engagement analytics to peer conversations, from safeguarding reviews to student-led initiatives, we are trying to listen more deeply and respond more relationally. Our learning is clear: men do talk – when they feel seen, safe and socially permitted to do so.

What makes a differenceÌý

We have found that certain elements are particularly effective:Ìý

• Consistent, trusted messaging from student-facing staff, including academic and professional services support staff and peer representatives – reminding students early and often that mental health is relevant, legitimate and worth attending to. • Male-only talking spaces, such as peer-led groups like Talk Club, promoted by visible male student leaders who offer psychological permission to speak.
• Male-only talking spaces, such as peer-led groups like Talk Club, promoted by visible male student leaders who offer psychological permission to speak.
• A diverse wellbeing workforce that reflects a variety of genders and backgrounds – normalising emotional expression across racialised, neurodivergent and queer masculinities.
• Access and Participation Plan (APP) reviews and activities that consider gender, racialisation and other identity-based disparities – ensuring institutional strategies actively support underrepresented masculinities and promote inclusive wellbeing messaging across the student journey.
• Therapeutic environments that engage with silence, withdrawal and anger with curiosity rather than judgment – making space for the full complexity of how men experience distress.
• A campus culture that shifts the narrative – where campaigns, workshops and communications promote mental health not as a correction to masculinity but as part of being human.
• A reframing from fighting toxic masculinity to fostering positive masculinity – emphasising self-awareness, empathy, accountability and emotional resilience as strengths rather than deficits.Ìý

This work cannot be formulaic. Supporting men’s wellbeing in higher education must be dynamic, relational and grounded in cultural understanding. It is not about replacing toxic messages with perfect ones but about offering better alternatives: spaces where being male does not mean being emotionally alone.Ìý

A sector in transitionÌý

Movember’s findings highlight a cultural disruptor – but also a strategic opportunity. Universities are uniquely placed to interrupt cycles of silence and shame, not by confronting social media directly, but by building stronger relational ecosystems. From peer groups to pedagogy, from policy to presence, we can signal that all expressions of masculinity are welcome and that emotional truth is not a failure but a form of strength.Ìý

At SHU, we do not claim to have all the answers. But we are committed to asking better questions. How do we hold space for male students to beÌýcomplex, contradictory and human? How do we design student support systems that quietly reassure male students – from their first interaction to their final year – that they matter and they belong? How do we become the kind of institution where silence does not mean safety, and speaking is always an option?

Men will talk. But only if we build the places where they feel safe enough to start.Ìý