Healing men and boys requires looking beyond grievance-based narratives—it demands a feminist approach.
We will all die one day, but we won’t all end up in the same place—or at least our bodies won’t.
I was reminded of this during a tour of the local coroner’s office. After the coroner described the types of cases his office investigates—sudden, traumatic, violent, unexpected or suspicious deaths, including homicides, suicides, accidents and drug-related fatalities—I asked him, “What percentage of the bodies you investigate are male?”
It turns out that in Franklin County, Ohio, more than 70 percent of the deceased in 2023 in critical categories were male: overdoses (73 percent), suicides (79 percent) and motor vehicle fatalities (74 percent). In 2020, 84 percent of homicide victims were male. The fact that these statistics have not meaningfully deepened our understanding of men’s needs speaks volumes about how the current discourse on the “crisis in men’s health” has often been co-opted to serve the aims of grievance politics.
Still, these statistics do raise some questions. Those of us who have committed our lives and professional careers to ending men’s violence against women and advancing gender equity know that the struggles of men have always had a direct impact on the lives of women and girls. Not only do women disproportionately bear the burden of supporting the physical and mental health needs of the men and boys in their lives, but they also bear the cost: financially, physically and emotionally. Moreover, the lack of a critical lens in the discourse on men’s health has created fertile ground for grievance-based narratives—narratives that have contributed to an environment in which we see a troubling rise in men’s violence against women, particularly in communities of color.
These realities prompt three key questions about the current discourse surrounding men’s health—questions that will inevitably shape how we respond moving forward:
- Is there truly a public health crisis impacting men and boys?
- If so, what are the underlying causes?
- Why should we care now?
It’s impossible to answer the second question without acknowledging the foundational role that feminist theory and scholarship have played in examining gendered differences in health. This is precisely what much of the current discourse fails to do.
The feminist-inspired men’s health movement emerged in the late 1960s and early ’70s in direct response to the exclusion of men’s gendered experiences from traditional health research. It introduced a critical lens that interprets men’s health outcomes not as the products of biology alone, but as the result of a complex interplay between structural inequalities and deeply embedded cultural ideologies about masculinity. Issues such as accidents, addiction and loneliness are profoundly shaped by cultural norms that promote risk-taking, suppress emotional expression and discourage help-seeking—factors that constrain men’s emotional capacity and inhibit the formation of close, supportive relationships, particularly with other men.
Between 1991 and 2019, suicide attempts among Black males increased by 162 percent—the sharpest rise among any racial or ethnic group.
Feminist scholarship has also been instrumental in revealing how race, class, sexuality and institutional forces shape varied masculinities. This framework has been essential in examining how adverse health outcomes differ across racial and ethnic groups—making the experiences of males of color visible within the broader conversation on men’s health.
The rising rates of suicide and overdose among Black men underscore the necessity of this approach. Between 1991 and 2019, suicide attempts among Black males increased by 162 percent—the sharpest rise among any racial or ethnic group. In terms of overdose deaths, while about 70 percent of the fatalities in 2021 in states like Ohio were male, the surge in overdose deaths among Black males became a key driver of male mortality, closely tied to the rise in deaths involving synthetic opioids, especially illicitly manufactured fentanyl. Additionally, research on the intersection of race and gender has consistently shown that education and income do not confer the same mental and physical health benefits for Black men as they do for other groups.
The persistence of these patterns illustrates how Black men face acute stressors much earlier in life—stressors rooted in systemic racism, economic marginalization, exposure to community violence and limited access to culturally competent care. Addressing suicide and overdose deaths among Black males, therefore, requires a structural and intersectional approach, one that incorporates both feminist and critical race theory.
This article is part of “Ms. on Men: Rethinking Masculinity in the Wake of the 2025 Election,” a special Summer 2025 feature guest-edited by Jackson Katz. This excerpt comes from Jewel Woods’ full-length article in the print issue, where he discusses the public health crisis facing men today and how we can cultivate a productive public discourse on men’s health. To read the full piece, join the Ms. community—you’ll get issues delivered straight to your mailbox—or order a single copy of the Summer issue for just $5.
Great Job Jewel Woods & the Team @ Ms. Magazine Source link for sharing this story.
