Each November, or #Movember, the spotlight turns to men’s mental health.

It’s a timely moment to reflect not just on the statistics, but on the stories and systems behind them to ask how we can build a world where all men feel able to live well, seek help, and thrive.

When it comes to the intersection of race and gender, the conversation takes on another layer.

Too many Black men still face significant and multiple barriers to good mental health. These are barriers rooted not in individual failure, but in long-standing inequalities that shape every part of life.

Why are outcomes poorer for Black men?

We know that racism impacts mental health not only through overt discrimination (though sadly, we are seeing a global return of the old-school, explicit racism of the 70s and 80s) but through the way it weaves into the structures that shape our lives: from housing and education to employment, policing, and healthcare.

Black communities are more likely to face housing insecurity, economic instability, and health inequalities - all of which increase exposure to stress, anxiety, and trauma. Yet, when Black men reach out for support, they often encounter services that do not understand or reflect their lived experiences.

Traditional mental health systems aren’t designed with Black men in mind. Too often, they fail to provide spaces that feel safe, culturally sensitive, and free from judgement. This disconnect leaves too many feeling unseen, unheard, and unsupported.

Beyond systems: tackling stigma and reimagining strength

Alongside systemic change, there’s also deep personal and community work that needs to happen to challenge the stigma still attached to mental health and the narrow expectations of masculinity that can discourage vulnerability.

For generations, Black men have been told, implicitly and explicitly, by themselves, by others in the community, and by dominant patriarchal narratives, to “man up,” to stay strong and to shoulder pain in silence. But more and more men are leading by example, speaking openly about their wellbeing as well as topics like ‘racism, fatherhood, and sharing coping mechanisms within oppressive systems’ (British Psychological Society, Richard Majors), and showing that asking for help is an act of courage, not weakness.

Understanding the deeper roots

We cannot ignore the historic and systemic forces that have shaped these realities. Decades of anti-Black racism have devalued Black men’s lives and bodies in policy, in institutions, and in culture. Trust in systems claiming to ‘help us’ is, understandably, low.

Policing is one clear example. Black boys are stopped and searched by police at rates several times higher than their white peers [1], with around one in five Black children having been stopped by the age of 15. Experiences like these send harmful messages about who is seen as “risky” or “deserving” of help, breeding mistrust and creating recurring trauma through the very systems meant to protect the general population.

And within those same systems — from education to healthcare — internalised racism and bias can lead even well-meaning practitioners to replicate patterns of exclusion and harm. The result is a society that too often fails to recognise Black men’s vulnerabilities: as survivors of violence, as victims of sexual abuse, and as individuals living with the compounded pressures of racism and inequality.

But people are changing narratives

Despite these challenges, there’s powerful, positive work happening. Across the UK, individuals and organisations are reframing the conversation and creating spaces that affirm, empower, and care for Black men on their own terms. This is a bid to move away from the old systems that have ignored Black people’s well-being across generations of institutional failure.

Groups like No More Exclusions, Class 13, Kay Rufai’s Smile-ing Boys Project and Black Thrive, Spark2Life and BLKOUT UK are driving real change through building community, transforming education, and opening up conversations that place Black men’s wellbeing and diverse experiences of gender, sexuality and identity at the centre.

Grassroots programmes, youth-club and community-space based initiatives, and peer-led circles are also reimagining what mental health support can look like in practice, to promote access to support systems grounded in culture, trust, and care.

At Partisan, we’ve been inspired by thinkers and practitioners who push this agenda forward. Dr Roland J. Thorpe Jr, a leading researcher on Black men’s health in the US, reminds us that progress begins when we stop focusing solely on the challenges of Black men’s mental health, illness and poorer outcomes in wellness, and start talking about thriving.

A new framework for action

Dr Thorpe’s work offers a vital blueprint for how we move forward… lessons that apply just as strongly here in the UK:

Focus on thriving, not just surviving. The goal isn’t merely to reduce poor outcomes, but to build conditions for joy, fulfilment, and health.
Normalise regular health check-ups. Early engagement can prevent crises and build a culture of care.
Rebuild trust in good health systems. This means representation, accountability, and meaningful inclusion at every level where the systems are shown to make a difference.
Challenge the systems that harm. Education, policing, criminal justice structures must be interrogated, not accepted as inevitable, and energy directed to alternatives that actually work.
Increase visibility. We need more positive, relatable stories of Black men living well in media, research, and everyday life.
Adopt a strength-based lens. Talk about Black men through the lens of resilience, creativity, and contribution: not just deficit or danger.

Reimagining the future

There’s a striking insight from Mind UK that brings this home: up until the age of 11, Black boys’ mental health outcomes are broadly similar to those of their white peers. The divergence begins after that.

So we have to ask - what happens between childhood and adolescence? What are we, as a society, teaching and projecting onto young Black boys that so quickly erodes their sense of safety and belonging?

If we can answer that question honestly - and act on it - we’ll not only improve mental health outcomes for Black men, but create a fairer, more compassionate society for all of us.

Black men’s mental health isn’t just a “community issue”, nor is it something to talk about only in #Movember. It’s a mirror for how just, inclusive, and humane our systems really are.

Notes

[1] Across March - August 2025 in London, ‘Black or Black British people’ were stopped and searched by the Metropolitan Police nearly five times more than white people. (Police UK)

Shifting the dial: Black Men’s Mental Health in Focus