As Movember approaches, there’s a conversation most HR departments aren’t having. It’s about the 48-year-old finance manager who’s just watched an AI tool do in 30 seconds what took him years to master. It’s about the men who’ve worked hard to make a living, and are now wondering if the rules changed without anyone telling them.
A vulnerable demographic
Men account for three-quarters of all suicides, and it’s the middle-aged group that deserves a particular focus, as the suicide rate in the UK in 2023 was highest for males aged 45 to 49 years.
Many of these men are supporting children through university – fees, accommodation, and living costs. They’re arranging care for ageing parents, while managing 10-15 years left on mortgages. They have worked hard, built expertise, and provided for their families.
Then artificial intelligence arrived.
AI as the threat multiplier
AI, of course, isn’t discriminating by age or gender – it’s coming for everyone. In fact, younger workers aged 18-24 are 129% more likely than those over 65 to worry AI will make their jobs obsolete, and entry-level positions face the steepest automation risks. Dario Amodei, CEO of Anthropic, recently stated that nearly half of all entry-level white-collar jobs in knowledge work could be replaced by AI.
But for middle-aged men, the threat compounds differently.
It’s not just about learning new software. It’s existential. The expertise they spent decades building? AI does it faster. The analytical skills they were hired for? Automated. Their professional identity? Under threat. And unlike younger workers who can pivot careers or older workers approaching retirement, men aged 40-55 face this disruption at precisely the moment when financial obligations peak and masculine expectations demand they appear invulnerable.
Short-term gains, long-term damage
Let’s be blunt: most AI strategies are being driven by short-term financial benefits. Companies with customer support teams, for example, tout 15% productivity improvements and celebrate cost savings. What they’re not doing is having honest conversations about what happens to the people whose roles get “optimised.”
The World Economic Forum reports that by 2030, 41% of companies worldwide plan to reduce their workforce by 20-30% due to AI automation. That’s not just a statistic, it’s somebody’s parent, somebody’s partner, somebody who’s working hard to earn a living.
Women face these pressures, often more acutely. But women are also more likely to seek help, use support services, and build support networks; men less so. The masculine script they grew up with – be strong, don’t show weakness, sort it out yourself – makes them the least likely to use employee assistance programmes or to admit they’re struggling.
It’s not about resources, it’s about design. We need male-specific approaches not because men’s problems are bigger, but because our current solutions are leaving them behind.
What actually needs to happen
Generic mental health initiatives won’t touch this. So, what will?
Stop lying about what AI means. If roles are vulnerable, say so. Give people timelines. Explain what support you’ll provide. The not-knowing is worse than bad news. When men suspect leadership isn’t being honest, anxiety becomes corrosive.
Treat reskilling with dignity. Don’t call it “remedial training.” Frame it as leadership evolution. This cohort has deep experience – show them how that becomes more valuable combined with AI, not less.
Create proper support for this demographic. Avoid generic wellbeing apps, use actual networks that address career transitions, financial anxiety, caring responsibilities, and what identity means beyond job title. Look at what organisations like Andy’s Man Club and Talk Club are doing: they’re peer-led, action-oriented, and facilitated by people who understand how men actually engage with these challenges.
Address the financial reality. Provide access to financial planning that deals with university costs, care of the elderly, mortgage pressure, etc. Financial anxiety drives male mental health crisis in this age group more than almost anything else.
Normalise male caregiving. Cultures that shame men for caring responsibilities contribute to mental health decline.
Get senior men to model vulnerability. When a 52-year-old director admits he’s finding AI adoption challenging, or that he’s struggling with caring responsibilities, it permits others to be vulnerable. Without that, everyone pretends they’re fine.
What’s at stake
The psychological impact ripples outward when middle-aged men feel their professional identity is threatened, their financial security endangered, and their expertise devalued – especially when they also carry massive caring and financial responsibilities.
Some withdraw. Some become resistant to necessary change. Many suffer in silence with declining mental and physical health. And in the worst cases, they become another suicide statistic.
When men feel lost about their role in a changing world, bad actors fill the gap. The Andrew Tate phenomenon should’ve taught us that. Organisations have a responsibility to ensure their change management doesn’t create conditions for disengagement or radicalisation.
This Movember, look harder
This Movember, don’t look at moustaches. Look at the men in your organisation who are ‘successful’ but perhaps privately deeply concerned. Look at the demographic nobody thinks of as vulnerable because they occupy leadership positions and earn decent salaries – the ones lying awake at 3 am.
AI will transform work, that’s inevitable. The question is whether we’ll do it with humanity and foresight, or chase short-term financial gains whilst ignoring the human cost.
Men’s mental health isn’t just a November problem. But join me and ‘grow a mo’ (if you can) to support the cause!
