Pom in Oz with Derek Goforth: Public messaging one-sided with men ‘expected’ to get on with it, not complain

There is a quiet expectation placed on men that rarely gets questioned. Get on with it. Don’t complain. Keep moving. From a young age, boys are taught — sometimes directly, often subtly — that hardship is something to absorb, not express. Fall over, get up. Don’t talk about it, and certainly don’t ask for help. Over time, that message sinks in. Deal with it yourself. That might build resilience in some cases. But it also builds silence. And that silence has consequences. To understand where priorities sit in Australia right now, just take a “scroll”. Open most politicians’ social media and it’s quite clear. Post after post focused on women’s initiatives. Funding announcements, campaigns, programs. The messaging is consistent and highly visible. Now try to find the same focus on men. You’ll be scrolling for a while. This is NOT about denying the importance of those services for women. They are necessary and long overdue. But the imbalance is hard to ignore. That public window tells a one-sided story. Men’s issues rarely feature in a meaningful or sustained way. When they do, they are often folded into broader conversations or mentioned briefly during awareness weeks. There is very little that speaks directly to men and their experiences. The numbers back that up. In Australia, men account for around 75 per cent of all suicide deaths, according to the Australian Bureau of Statistics. Men also make up roughly 93 per cent of the prison population, based on Australian Institute of Health and Welfare data. Male victims of domestic violence exist as well, navigating situations with far fewer services and far less recognition. Yet public messaging continues to frame the issue almost exclusively in one direction. What this creates is a feedback loop. The more something is talked about, the more it is seen as important. The more it is seen as important, the more funding and attention it receives. When one side dominates, the other is easier to overlook. And for men already conditioned to stay quiet, that silence deepens. We tell men to speak up. But when they look at the messaging, the services, and the public conversation, they don’t always see themselves in it. As a dad, that imbalance feels even more personal. You look at the programs and opportunities available and notice how often they are geared in one direction. My daughter has access to strong support and clearly promoted pathways. That is a good thing. But when you compare that to what is visible for my boys, the difference stands out. This is not about taking anything away from girls. It is about asking whether we have swung so far in one direction that we are now overlooking another group that needs attention. Because the same pattern repeats. In communities, in policy, and in public messaging. There is also a cultural contradiction. Society still expects men to be steady, reliable, to carry weight without complaint. But when that pressure takes its toll, the support structures do not match the expectation. In regional communities, that gap feels wider. Fewer services, greater isolation, and a stronger hold on the idea that you just get on with it. It’s about balance. Recognising that men are not immune to hardship, and ignoring their needs does not make them disappear. It just pushes them further out of sight. If governments are serious about healthier communities, the approach needs to reflect reality. Visible, consistent support for men. Services that are accessible and well funded. Campaigns that actually speak to them. And it starts with something simple. Acknowledgement. For generations, men have been told to suck it up. The problem is, they have. And we are now living with the consequences of that silence. Lifeline 13 11 14Beyond Blue 1300 224 636 Derek Goforth is an expat and father of three living and working in Geraldton