On the surface, the latest Netflix documentary Louis Theroux: Inside the Manosphere looks like a dive into the fringe corners of social media. Muscular men rattle out advice to young men about women and wealth — thinly veiled misogyny dressed up with Lamborghinis and swanky condos as ‘evidence’ that the methods work.

It would be fringe if it lived in tucked-away corners of the internet. But Samuel Tanner, a criminology professor at the Université de Montréal, warns it’s already in the bedrooms of Canadian boys. The entry point to this content isn’t the loud, spectacular influencers Theroux profiles. It’s something far more subtle and easier to miss: sigma male content.

Tanner (along with PhD student François Gillardin) analyzed nearly 1,000 TikTok videos of speeches that spread harmful ideas about women. The content is mainly directed to men and promotes a version of masculinity where men have control over women.

Tanner says  ‘sigma male’ isn’t really a personality type. It’s more of an idea that gets talked about and shared online. He adds that it “is defamatory towards women, the LGBTQ+ community and promotes a ‘hegemonic masculinity’ that signals dominance of men over women.” It spreads through algorithms and meme culture — getting shared, remixed and evolving as it goes. 

Tanner says young boys “appropriate this kind of discourse,” meaning they take the content, change it slightly, but use the same hashtags, format and music.

What sigma male content looks like

Tanner got interested in this topic because of first-hand experience. He and Gillardin noticed a common pattern in videos that popped up on their TikTok and Instagram feeds: videos expressing varying degrees of harmful attitudes towards women, ranging from disinterest and rejection to hate and humiliation.

“When I say humiliation, they were kind of silly videos. You see three young girls seated on a bench and then there’s this guy coming with a rose, giving one of them a rose. The girl reacts, ‘Oh, wow.’ And then you see the guy kneeling, lacing up his shoe, and then he takes the rose back and leaves. And these videos always had this image of Patrick Bateman from American Psycho, laughing, nodding … as if to say: this is how you have to behave towards women.”

The humour (and meme) trap

Tanner says the real issue is how these videos end. Usually with humour and a nod to popular meme culture. That humour makes the content easier to share, without people stopping to think about the harm it can cause.

“Humour is a homosocial currency,” says Tanner, meaning it’s a big part of how young men connect. He says it allows harmful ideas to be shared without much pushback and over time it lowers the bar for what feels acceptable when talking negatively about women and other communities.

Another problem with sigma male content is that not all of it is harmful — or at least not at the outset. Tanner explains that some of the content under the Sigma umbrella is about self-improvement. He shares typical reactions from young boys who participated in his research.

“The more they watched it, the more they could relate to it at some point. They were like, if we consider white men in society right now, it seems that we are the cause of all the harms in society, after #MeToo, EDI politics, all of these things they refer to as ‘progressivism’, ‘modernity’, ‘woke culture’. And they were like, at least in Sigma we can focus on ourselves. This is a communication that helps us become the best version of ourselves, by going to the gym, taking care of our body, our diet, our discipline, telling us that we should not spend too much time with girls because it’s an obstacle.”

This kind of “self-help” content quickly shifts into messages that tell boys to distance themselves from women or dismiss their experiences. These ideas can have a big impact on teen boys who are still learning to understand what healthy relationships look like.

Tanner warns that it can make it feel normal to distance yourself from certain groups.

“And we know through history that when people came to that point, it doesn’t bring good things to humanity.”

So after watching close to 200 sigma male videos and interviewing 15 young boys, what did Tanner make of the Netflix documentary? He has mixed reactions.

What the Netflix documentary got right, and wrong

Tanner says host and executive producer, Louis Theroux, did a decent job of challenging the influencers and their controversial (sometimes contradictory) narratives. But he has two main criticisms: one, that it didn’t show the consequences on women, and secondly: the documentary focused on the most spectacular, dramatic and loud voices from the ‘manosphere’ which failed to capture the broader problem.

Tanner says sigma male content is an ‘entry’ point to more harmful ideologies because it’s an entry point into the shadowy alleys of the manosphere.

“This is where we should be careful and use all our precautions for young boys that are interested in sigma male content, so that they don’t get into more radical ideas because it shifts very rapidly.”

What parents can do about it

So why are boys seeking this content out at all? For Tanner, the answer lies in a deeper struggle. He says many young boys carry an existential void and struggle with a fractured sense of their own masculinity.

“Young boys today are struggling to understand what it means to be masculine, how to behave with girls, how they feel about their own identity. And the masculinist discourse has become so big that when they search for answers on the tools they’re using, this (sigma content) is the information they find.”

Tanner has simple advice for Canadian families: Talk about it.

“Why not watch the Netflix documentary with your 14-year-old boy and ask, ‘What do you think about that? The guys have nice cars, they seem to have nice girls … but is this thing appealing to you?’ We have to go with the flow. And at least establish a link so kids know they can talk about these things with their parents. Whatever the resources, just do it.”

For parents who feel unqualified to have that conversation, Tanner has a reassuring message: “It’s not about knowledge, it’s about good sense.”

“I think we owe that conversation to our children.”

I’ve spent years researching how men think about their health, identity as well as how they can influence others and one thing keeps coming up.

Whether I’m talking to guys back in Canada, here in Australia or anywhere in between I find most men genuinely want to show up well for the younger generation. They just don’t always know how. Or (more often) they think they need to have it all figured out first.

They don’t, and that’s actually the whole point.

If you’re a dad, an uncle, a coach, an older brother or a guy who has a younger man in his orbit, then you already have more influence than you realize. The question isn’t if you’re a role model. You already are. The question is, what kind?

Good role models don’t need to be perfect

One major thing I’ve learned from working with guys over the years is that you don’t need to have the world figured out to be someone worth watching. In fact, pretending you do might cause more harm than good.

How boys and young men absorb ideas about what it means to be a man isn’t straightforward. It isn’t a sit-down conversation that you explain in one go. It’s a whole collection of experiences. Like watching what the men around them do when they’re stressed, how they talk (or don’t talk) about hard stuff, whether they ask for help or just push through.

Historically, that’s meant young guys inherit a kind of quiet understanding of how they show up as a man. Not a conscious handoff of values, but a set of unspoken rules picked up through observation. A lot of those rules, like “man up” and “just move on,” haven’t served us well. 

At the same time, young guys today are facing a particularly confusing moment. The old playbook is being challenged, and rightly so. But there’s a loud response online in ‘the manosphere’ that’s trying to push back against positive masculine values. It isn’t just a fringe thing anymore. The algorithms push it hard and it’s giving guys a sense of identity at a time when they’re looking for one.

That’s where the real-life role model becomes more valuable than ever.

Not every guy needs to become an influencer or start a podcast. But working within your sphere of influence — as a father, a brother, a coach, a workmate — is where the important work can happen. In the moments that actually stick.

And here’s the thing, you don’t need to have all the answers for that to work. When I share that I’m still figuring some of this out myself is when quality mentorship happens. It tells young guys it’s okay to be a work in progress and that they’re not alone in the confusion. During those moments, real-life person-to-person support becomes more valuable than ever. 

How to show boys it’s okay to feel

Something I hear a lot from the men I work with is “I want to be there for him, I just don’t know what to say.” Honestly, that’s the right place to start. The struggle usually isn’t that men don’t care. It’s just that nobody ever handed them the vocabulary.

A lot of men weren’t raised with language for emotions. Not their fault, but it’s a gap. Thankfully it closes with practice. The first step is recognizing that you don’t need a perfect script. You need a way in.

That’s where things like metaphors do some heavy lifting. In my research, the men who were most comfortable talking about hard stuff weren’t the ones using clinical language. They were the ones who’d found a frame that fit their world.

Sports metaphors can work really well. For example: every athlete knows what it means to play through an injury that should have been treated, to run on empty, to need a game plan when the first one falls apart. They know they can’t win a game on their own and need the help of their team (on and off the field) to make a comeback.

That kind of language already lives in your mind. Go ahead and use it. Draw the lines between mental health and the way you’d think of your fitness. You train, you recover, you get a second opinion when something isn’t right. The same logic applies. Tune up your car, tune up your head. It sounds simple, because it is. Simple is what opens doors.

The other piece is timing. The instinct for a lot of men is to wait and share their experience from a position of ‘I figured it out’ rather than ‘I’m in the thick of it’. That feels safer. But it can send a message that the struggle is the part you hide. What lands with young men is hearing someone else say I’m having a tough time right now too. That normalizes it. 

An easy way to remember these steps is with the ALEC approach.

Ask: How are they and what’s been happening lately?

Listen: By giving them your full attention

Encourage Action: To make steps towards feeling better

Check-in: Follow up regularly to see how things are going

You don’t need a long conversation. Ask how he’s really doing and wait for the answer. Don’t fill the silence or rush to fix things. Most days, being heard is the fix.

Creating a safe space for boys to open up

I’ll say it again: you do not need to have all the answers.

The most powerful shift you can make as a mentor is moving from an authority figure towards seeing yourself as a guide. That way the pressure drops considerably, and the conversation gets better.

Another common mistake is well-intentioned help missing the mark because the helper defaulted to problem-solving when the other guy just needed to be heard.

One guy I spoke to who was going through a breakup had a buddy show up to help him move and take him out for a beer. Great intentions, wrong function. Turns out what the guy needed was someone to sit with him and listen during the hard times.

Ask instead of assuming. “What can I do to help?” is a question that only takes a second, but can help get you both on the same page about what they need right now.

Context matters too. Some of the best conversations don’t happen face-to-face across a table. They happened side by side, walking, driving, doing something together. The shared activity is a pathway in. Use it. Just make sure the activity isn’t also the ceiling that stunts your growth.

Why men need to take care of themselves too

Men who are focused on being good mentors, providers and protectors are usually the last ones to check in on themselves. I get it. Looking outward and thinking about the people around you is an excellent quality to have.

But here’s the piece I circle back to: are you practising the values you’re promoting? Self-care sometimes gets dismissed as selfishness. I’d argue it’s the opposite. Looking after yourself is important, and it keeps you strong.

Exercise is a good example of how this can cut both ways. Movement has real mental health benefits, no question about it. But when it becomes purely about looking good or about avoiding something uncomfortable, it stops being self-care and becomes a way to run from things. The same goes for staying busy, throwing yourself into work or just being “fine” all the time.

The guys I’ve spoken to in my research were clear about what they want most from the men around them. Deeper more authentic connections, not performance. They can tell the difference, so show them the real thing.

Check your own stuff

This is the part nobody really wants to hear, so I’ll keep it short.

The most important thing you can do for the young men in your life is to do some honest work on yourself. Not because you need to be perfect — you don’t. Pretending otherwise is no good. But because the values you’re transmitting are always going to be filtered through who you actually are, not who you’re trying to project.

Take a look at the values you may have been raised with. Strength, reliability, those aren’t the problem. But when those values get tangled up with the idea that expressing yourself or your emotions is a sign of weakness, then we’ve got a problem.

Get curious about your own thoughts. Notice when you start to avoid certain things. Ask yourself whether the way you handled something is the way you’d want someone else to learn how to handle it.

Opening up about your own challenges as a man can work as a form of mentorship. By doing so, you allow others to connect with you and learn how you navigated them and how they can learn from any mistakes made. Sometimes the younger guys can even help you find solutions to your problems. These teachings can be a two-way street which benefits everyone.

Ultimately, be the change you want to see. It’s an old line for a reason.

The effort is the point

Nobody gets it right all the time. I certainly don’t. The guys in my research don’t. The best role models I’ve encountered are the ones who kept showing up anyway.

Change takes time and isn’t always visible. You don’t need to fix everything at once. Just show up, stay real and use your influence as best as you can — that’s how we move forward, together.

Burnout isn’t just a buzzword used for office workers and think pieces. It’s showing up on job sites, in work trucks and at the end of long shifts across the country. A report of more than 1,000 Canadian skilled trades workers found that half of those experiencing mental health issues specifically suffered from burnout.

Which makes sense. This kind of work is demanding, and its culture of pushing through is real. In a lot of ways it’s part of what makes a good tradesman. However, there’s a line between a hard day’s work and something more serious. The symptoms are easier to miss than you’d think.

To get a better look at the issue, I spoke to CMHF’s Trevor Botkin, a working carpenter turned mental health advocate, and Jessie MacAlpine Shearer, a Registered Psychotherapist. Here’s what the two of them have to say about burnout in tradeworkers and men. 

The tricky thing about burnout is that it doesn’t suddenly announce itself. It creeps in quietly, usually disguised as something else.

Where burnout begins

Trevor lived through this shift firsthand. He describes himself as going from someone thrown into his work (proactive, driven, finding real fulfilment in the job) to eventually landing in a place where everything that used to drive him turned grey.

“I remember putting on my work boots each day felt almost impossible to do.”

Jessie expands on these feelings. She works with a lot of skilled trades guys who work physically demanding roles and sees this pattern regularly. She defines burnout as a state of chronic physical and emotional decline paired with loss of interest and lower productivity. 

The key distinction from ordinary tiredness and burnout is that burnout lingers and changes how you see yourself.

“You’ll hear the guys say things like ‘it’s not just ‘I’m tired, it’s ‘I don’t feel like myself anymore,’ while they’re trying to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders,” Jessie explains.

She sees burnout show up in a few areas of a person’s life:

• Irritability or anger that feels out of character
• Emotional numbness or withdrawal
• Increased substance use
• Trouble sleeping, even when exhausted
• Loss of motivation or pride in work
• Strained relationships

The guys who sit down with Jessie rarely label these combined feelings as burnout. More often it looks like irritability that feels out of character, emotional numbness, trouble sleeping even when exhausted, a loss of pride in the work or strained relationships at home. For tradesmen specifically, it often hides behind physical fatigue. Since it’s so expected in these roles the mental side of it goes unnoticed far longer.

How trades workers end up here

The risk factors for burnout in the trades aren’t hard to spot once you know where to look, and they stack up quickly. Physical strain without enough recovery. Long hours. Financial pressure. High performance expectations. And on top of all that, the pressure to try and handle it alone.

For Trevor, a lot of it came down to identity. He describes being locked into a rigid idea that being a man and being a construction worker meant there were things he simply didn’t do. Rest. Ask for help. Admit something was wrong. He calls this former self “a professional at self-destruction.” 

Jessie sees this dynamic constantly. According to her, identity for tradesmen is often tied to being reliable, tough and capable. This is what makes it genuinely hard for them to recognize limits, let alone act on them. What clients think is causing their burnout is often just the surface, she says. Underneath is usually a mix of unexamined pressure, identity and a lack of recovery methods.

The data backs this up. According to research, despite 84% of Canadian tradespeople believing their union offers mental health support, only 10% have actually used those resources. Stigma was listed as a major barrier to these supports.

Some of the major causes of burnout include:

• Chronic physical strain without adequate recovery
• High performance expectations and long hours
• Financial or job insecurity
• Lack of emotional outlets or support
• Internalized pressure to “handle it” alone

Jessie underlines burnout isn’t a character flaw.

“It simply indicates a broken system, an overstimulating environment, or a lack of support in managing chronic stress.” 

Why getting help feels so uncomfortable

Knowing something is wrong and doing something about it are two very different things. Bridging the gap between them, for a lot of tradesmen, can be harder than what they’re used to building.

Trevor resisted for a long time. The turning point came, but getting there meant overcoming years of believing that asking for help was a failure. Something he really emphasizes now when working the site with other men is that counselling is not what you think it is. The version you’ve imagined in your head — whatever that looks like — is rarely the reality.

Jessie says she regularly hears the same doubt from clients. She says the most common reasons men give for waiting are “I thought I could handle it,” “It’s not bad enough yet.” “I didn’t think therapy was for someone like me.” Underneath all of it seems to be a belief that struggling means failure which can keep people stuck in life.

She’s also clear about what tipping points people reach that get them into therapy. A relationship under serious strain or ending. A noticeable drop in performance. Physical or emotional exhaustion that can’t be pushed through anymore. Or someone they trust telling them it’s time.

For trades workers specifically, virtual therapy removes a lot of the practical friction. No commute after a long shift. More privacy. Flexible scheduling. As Jessie puts it, you can start a session from a parked car if you’ve got a phone with internet access. The entry bar is lower than most people expect.

It won’t fix itself but it will get better

Recovery from burnout isn’t an overhaul. It takes time and outside help. Slowly reframing your life is what can help create positive change for guys who are already running on empty.

Botkin found his footing through the basics. Coming back to fundamental needs (healthier foods, creating sleep routines), a simple meditation practice and finding something to believe in that made life feel better which he calls spirituality. To him, the importance of just believing in anything, whether it be religious or not, offers a profound sense of wholeness to a person. The belief doesn’t have to be complicated, but simply a value you believe brings meaning and morals to the world.

Jessie’s early suggestions follow alongside some of this. Start with stabilizing sleep and energy. Build small moments of recovery (like meditation) into the day. Create awareness around stress patterns. Reduce all-or-nothing thinking. Structured routines, clear action-based strategies and tracking progress in concrete ways tend to resonate most with men in physically demanding work.

For those who want or need more structured support we’re launching a new eight-week Alli x CMHF program for exactly that. It’s a workshop called Running on Empty hosted by Jessie’s colleagues, Joel Carlton and Bree Grieg. It’s built around education on burnout and stress, practical tools for managing thoughts, mood and energy, strategies for better sleep and recovery, as well as a community of men working through the same thing. It’s designed to be straightforward and actionable, not clinical or overwhelming.

Progress can start subtly. Feeling slightly more patient. Sleeping better. Having a bit more energy at the end of the day. Getting back into things you’d stopped doing.

It’s a signal not a sentence

Both Trevor and Jessie land on the same idea. Recognizing something is off is already doing something. Burnout won’t resolve overnight but it’s absolutely reversible with the right support and consistent small changes.

So if the job that used to drive you is starting to feel like something you’re just getting through, that’s worth paying attention to. Self check-ins, expert advice and access to counselling can be the foundation to building a more durable you.

Still reading? Then something in this article landed.

Running on Empty is an 8-week Monday evening workshop built for men in the trades who are exhausted, stretched thin, and running on nothing — but aren’t about to walk into a therapist’s office.

It’s a small group — maximum 8 guys — that meets once a week online to build real, practical skills around energy, sleep, recovery, and stress.

You’ll get a workbook. A consistent structure every week. And a group of tradesmen dealing with the same thing.

What you walk away with:

• A clearer picture of what’s draining you
• Practical tools that work in real life
• A personal plan so you see it coming next time

How it works: Put your hand up by April 22nd. If more than 8 guys express interest, spots are selected by draw. Everyone who doesn’t get in this round goes to the top of the list for the next cohort.$99 for the full 8 weeks — pilot rate, normally $320.

If money is an issue for you right now, don’t worry, we’ve got you – send a message to [email protected], and we’ll sort you out.

If you’ve ever worked a job site you’ll know the unspoken rule of keep going. “Walk it off.” “You’re fine.” It’s an attitude that builds bridges and pulls resources, but it’s also breaking the foundation of the very men who spend their working lives dedicated to building yours. 

Recently, podcast hosts Mike Cameron and Trevor Botkin sat down with two guests who know that tension from the inside out. Sean Underhill, a veteran ironworker, and James Bosley, a former oil worker turned Pain BC counsellor. What they managed to unpack between each other brings a whole new level of clarity to the struggle many trades guys face.

Working like athletes but without the support team

Sean Underhill doesn’t dance around what it feels like to be working in the trades. “I felt like an athlete when I was on the job,” he says. “Our bodies were running like an athlete, except you’re doing it all day.”

Trevor Botkin pushes on exactly that. If they’re working like athletes, are trades workers being treated like athletes? The answer everyone agrees with is ‘no’. Professional athletes have physiotherapists, performance psychologists, and massage therapists in their corner. Tradespeople have the expectation that they’ll show up and push through whatever the cost may be.

It’s a gap that has consequences far beyond just sore muscles.

“I got this”— the loneliest three words on the planet

Mike Cameron names the cultural reflex that runs through trades culture with striking clarity. The infamous “I got this.”

Those can be the loneliest three words to hear, according to Mike. It’s grit repackaged as isolation, and for many tradespeople it’s the only language they were taught.

James Bosley offers a different idea on where that reflex comes from. “A lot of times ‘I got this,’ is the trauma response that we got used to …to adapt to not having the help.”  He describes it as a coping mechanism that hardened into habit.

And it has real, physical consequences on the job. “A lot of times it can lead to injuries or accidents,” James says, “because somebody is just, ‘I got it,’ but they’re being complacent.” He’s seen it go further than accidents. He’s been on sites where people didn’t go home.

Sean adds what’s missing from the other side of the equation. A safe place to say otherwise. “There was no space for you to go. There wasn’t a safe space. There was no area you felt you could just go, be vulnerable and say, ‘I need help.'”

When the body breaks from chronic pain

James’ path to Pain BC didn’t start with a career pivot. It actually started with a fall.

In 2016, James was working as a roll-off truck driver on Vancouver Island. One day while he was rolling a tarp over a garbage bin, he stepped on a piece of cardboard and dropped eight or nine feet to the bottom of that bin. He kept working. A week or two later he went to the hospital. The results were inconclusive. He was told they’d be in touch. So he kept working six days a week, up to 75 hours.

Months later when he finally saw a specialist, the doctor asked where his cast was. It turns out James had been walking on a shattered heel for six months. By the time he understood the seriousness of his accident (a broken leg, broken hip, and blown disc) he’d spent over a year compensating, overworking and making everything worse. When he finally stopped, the stress of not knowing when he’d return to work compounded everything.

“The majority of that pain that rose was because of the stress,” James says now. “The lack of sleep, the lack of nutrition, all of those things are factors.”

That’s not a small insight. It’s the foundation of how he now understands pain itself.

It’s not “all in your head” but it is in your brain 

One of the most important threads in this episode is James’s explanation of neuroplasticity and chronic pain translated into a way others can understand.

“Your brain becomes so efficient at going to pain, pain, pain, pain that even when you’re not injured, it’s still going to pain, pain, pain,” James explains. That’s neuroplasticity working against you. The good news though is it can be reversed. 

You can recreate new pathways.

James is currently taking a course in pain reprocessing therapy and he opens up about a deeply personal example — a decade of recurring, debilitating pain that no test could explain which became more intense during times of extreme stress. When he came across the same case described in his course, something clicked. He started telling himself, “I notice the pain now, but I’m okay. I’m not injured.” The pain, he says, has largely gone away.

He speaks up about his frustration around how this pain is understood by some practitioners.
“A lot of doctors will just tell you it’s in your head. Technically yes, all pain is in the head, because that’s where the senses are.” But that’s only half the explanation, and without the other half — the social and environmental factors, the role of sleep, food, home stress, unprocessed trauma — it just sounds like dismissal.

He points to the work of Canadian physician, Dr. Gabor Maté, who while working at a hospice found that the majority of his patients’ suffering traced back to unprocessed childhood trauma. None of this is weakness, it’s neurological. All of it is normal.

A brotherhood that seeks change

Sean speaks clearly about there being a brotherhood in the trades. He’s also clear that it’s broken.

“As an iron worker, it was a brotherhood, but it was a different branding of brotherhood, a different culture. It’s a broken culture. It needs to be changed.”

Now, what would a healthier version look like? Trevor frames it as a systemic question. What would the skilled trades sector look like if support was built in? Maybe it’s therapists on staff, physiotherapists accessible and a culture that asks us to heal instead of sucking it up. People learn from others who haven’t resolved their own traumas, and the cycle perpetuates itself.

We come in with a little bit of baggage and the trades don’t know how to deal with that.

Sean’s story makes the cost of that concrete. Early in his career, a serious injury led to opioid prescriptions. Three weeks later, he was rushed back to work with the same bottle still in his pocket. “I did not know how to navigate it,” he says. “And then when you cut off that medication and still in that pain, without any of this awareness or the community groups and knowledge. If you’re unequipped to deal with it, you can end up in a scary situation.”

Training for life, not just the job

The shift these guys are pointing toward isn’t about a dramatic overhaul. It’s smaller and more sustainable than that.

“Start making these little [changes] and gain that traction,” Sean says, reflecting on his own recovery. “The more you talk about it, the more you hear, the more you relate, you connect.” He looks back at where he used to be with pain and what’s opened up since. The opportunities to show up for his kids, his nieces and nephews, his community. “It’s catchy,” he says. 

Mike circles back to the athlete analogy to close it out. If professional athletes get entire support teams, why wouldn’t we build the same for how we live our lives? Therapists, friends, organizations like Pain BC. “They are out there,” he says. “They’re just sometimes a little bit invisible, and that’s why we’re having these conversations.”

Trevor offers the reminder that courage can be contagious. Sitting across from two working men willing to talk this openly, he says what’s been in the room the whole episode. “I really think what you guys have said today is going to connect with somebody that needs to hear it.”

Resources

If any of this speaks to you, know that there are places to turn to. James Bosley and Pain BC are a great starting point. They run The Guideline, a text support line specifically for people in the trades (available Monday to Thursday, 1 p.m.–8 p.m. PT), designed around the hours you actually work, not bankers’ hours.

Beyond that, here are a few other resources worth exploring:

• Employee Assistance Programs (EAP): Learn how EAPs can provide confidential support for workplace mental health and personal challenges. Read more at CCOHS.
• Addressing Stigma at Work: Understanding how to recognize and reduce the stigma around mental health in the workplace is a crucial first step. See the CCOHS guide.
• Canada’s Building Trades Union 2025 Mental Health Report: A report that highlights union support and outlines national commitments to member well-being. View the full report.

Accomplished CTV News reporter, John Vennavally-Rao was feeling fine at age 53. He was hitting the gym regularly, running a few times a week, and generally taking care of himself. He had no symptoms. No warning signs. Nothing that would make him think twice about scheduling a routine colonoscopy.

Then came the diagnosis of two separate, advanced cancers — one in his rectum and one in his lung.

“I thought I just dodged a bullet,” John recalls. “Turns out, I was standing right in the crosshairs.”

His story isn’t uncommon. It’s a reminder that colorectal cancer doesn’t care how healthy you feel, how much you exercise, or how many vegetables you eat. And increasingly, it’s not just a disease of older men.

Why screening matters more than you think

Dr. Brian Bressler, a gastroenterologist, puts it plainly. “The only thing that’s been proven to reduce your risk of colorectal cancer is regular screening.”

That’s right. Screening itself is a lifestyle measure. It’s proactive health care that catches problems before they become emergencies. For decades, the standard screening age in Canada has been 50, but that criterion is shifting. 

“We’re seeing colon cancer being diagnosed more frequently in patients under 50,” Dr. Bressler notes. “It’s happening in an alarming way.” Emerging research highlights this and diagnoses are expected to double. As scary as that seems, colorectal cancer (when caught early) has a survival rate of 90% — that’s huge. It means the earlier we catch these cases, the more likely it is for men to recover.

In the U.S. the recommended screening age has already dropped to 45. Recently, the Canadian Cancer Society has voiced its concern about colorectal screening ages to reach the same benchmark as our southern neighbours.

Know your body, know your risks

The thing about colorectal cancer is that it often doesn’t show symptoms until it’s advanced. That’s why screening is so critical. But if you do notice changes, don’t ignore them.

Red flags to watch for:

• Blood in your stool (this is not normal)
• A change in your bowel movement routine that persists
• Abdominal discomfort that won’t go away
• Iron deficiency anemia without an obvious cause

Dr. Bressler emphasizes that “normal” bowel habits vary from person to person. What really matters is whether your routine has changed. If you’ve noticed something different that lasts more than a couple of weeks, talk to your doctor.

And don’t let embarrassment get in the way. “It’s not really acceptable in society to talk about bowels,” Dr. Bressler admits. “That’s unfortunate.”

John shares a similar thought. He’s heard stories of men bleeding for six months before seeking help because they were too embarrassed to bring it up. “You gotta get that stuff checked out,” he says.

Younger men, higher risk

One of the most concerning trends in colorectal cancer is the rise in early-onset cases. While we’re still discovering why, experts point to potential factors like inactive lifestyles, poor eating habits and environmental influences.

“If you’re 43 years old and you have a change in bowel habit and some blood in your stool, don’t assume it’s not cancer because you’re under 50,” Dr. Bressler warns. “It’s probably not cancer, but we have a much lower threshold to investigate those symptoms in younger patients than we have had in the past.”

Family history also matters. If you have a close relative who was diagnosed with colorectal cancer before 60, your screening should likely start earlier.

What you can control

While screening is the only proven prevention method, lifestyle choices still matter. Research suggests associations between colorectal cancer and things like obesity, ultra-processed foods and alcohol intake.

And although it’s never a total guarantee, maintaining a healthy weight, eating a balanced diet and staying active are always smart moves when it comes to disease prevention.

John’s fitness routine, for example, likely played a role in his recovery. “Having that extra muscle mass really helped get me through that surgery,” he says. During a month-long hospital stay, he lost 30 pounds, mostly muscle. 

“It’s amazing,” he says. “You go from jogging 30 minutes a day to barely being able to walk in the course of three weeks in hospital. The speed at which you can deteriorate is breathtaking.”

Thankfully because he’d built up reserves over years of weightlifting, he had the strength to pull himself up in bed and eventually get back to the gym.

How to catch it early

Screening options in Canada typically include:

• Fecal immunochemical test (FIT): A stool-based kit mailed to your home. Easy to do but less accurate than a colonoscopy.
• Colonoscopy: The gold standard. More invasive but more thorough.

If you’re at an increased risk for colorectal cancer, some experts recommend a colonoscopy over a FIT test.

John doesn’t dance around the bush when it comes to screening options. “Get screened. Advocate for yourself. Maybe get a second opinion. The person that’s going to look out for you the most is yourself.”

He’s learned to read his own lab reports, catch mistakes and have more informed conversations with his doctors. “It’s empowering,” he says. “But if that’s stressful for you, maybe it’s better to let somebody else be in the driver’s seat.”

Hope on the horizon

Despite everything John’s been through, he’s optimistic. Medical advances have given him a fighting chance that previous generations didn’t have. His lung cancer has a specific gene mutation that can be targeted with medication. His surgeries were minimally invasive. His recovery, while difficult, has been possible.

“I’m super grateful that they were able to do any of this,” he says. “Twenty years ago, somebody like me would have probably lived about a year and a half. Just so much progress has been made.”

He’s also grateful for the awareness his story has created. Since sharing his experience, he’s received messages from people across Canada — some with similar diagnoses, others with questions about ostomy bags, others just wanting to know they’re not alone.

Take action today

You don’t have to wait for symptoms. You don’t have to wait until you’re 50. And you definitely don’t have to face this alone.

Talk to your primary care doctor about when to start screening. If you notice changes in your body, speak up. And remember, taking action early is always better than waiting until it’s too late.

Across Canada, many men and young men are quietly running out of connection.

They may be surrounded by coworkers, teammates, followers – even family — but still feel profoundly alone. A growing share of men are single, “friend-poor” and unsure how to rebuild intimacy once school, sports or a long-term relationship ends.

The Canadian Men’s Health Foundation’s research has pointed to the scale of the problem: social isolation is a major driver of declining mental health among Canadian men with half now at risk of social isolation. Among men living alone, that number skyrockets to 73 per cent.

But male loneliness isn’t just about “not having people around.” It’s the loss of reliable, emotionally safe relationships, especially adult friendships and romantic partnerships, compounded by masculinity norms and major life transitions like breakups, aging, job loss or relocation. Left unaddressed, that isolation can harden into depression, substance use, and for some men, suicidal thoughts.

To better understand what’s driving this trend, I spoke with Dr. Paul Sharp, a senior lecturer at the University of New South Wales’ health sciences department and a member of UBC’s Men’s Health Research Program, and with Sachin Latti, a mental health advocate who ran across Canada after his marriage collapsed and his depression deepened.

Their perspectives, one grounded in research, the other in lived experience, converge on a difficult truth: many men are struggling quietly and often don’t have the language, skills or support to name what’s happening.

The “friendship recession” among men

For decades, we’ve assumed loneliness was primarily a problem among older adults. But Dr. Sharp’s research with men aged 18-35 paints a very different picture.

“A lot of the guys we spoke to had great friendships in school,” said Dr. Sharp in an interview. “But once high school or university ends, those networks start to fade. People move, they partner up, they get busy. And over time, those broader friendships narrow.”

Dr. Sharp calls this part of a broader “friendship recession.” Structural shifts like longer work hours, financial pressure, fewer “third places” like community clubs and a more online world have made it harder to maintain deep adult friendships.

Importantly, many men rely on what researchers call “activity-based” friendships: buddies to play hockey with, grab beers with or work out alongside. Those relationships matter, but when the activity disappears due to a job change, a move or a breakup, the connection often evaporates too.

“It’s not that activity-based friendships are bad,” said Dr. Sharp. “They’re often how men first connect. The challenge is moving that acquaintance into something emotionally safer and more durable.”

For Sachin Latti, the collapse of his marriage exposed just how thin his social infrastructure had become.“When my divorce finalized, I remember thinking: ‘Who the hell would want to be with me?’” he said. “I felt like a failure. Financially starting over. Not the best husband. I spiralled.”

Latti described a moment during the pandemic when he felt so alone that he texted a friend simply asking for a hug. “That’s how lonely I was,” he said. “And I’m not a guy who usually says that.”

Why masculinity makes loneliness hard to talk about

Why don’t more men talk about feeling lonely? Part of the answer lies in masculinity norms.

“We still see strong cultural messages that men should be stoic, independent and self-reliant,” said Dr. Sharp. “Those traits are often celebrated. But we don’t talk about the times when grinding through alone doesn’t work.”

Men may intellectually agree that “opening up” is healthy, he added, but in practice expressing loneliness can feel like admitting weakness or failure. Loneliness itself is also hard to articulate.“It’s not just about being alone,” Dr. Sharp explained. “You can be surrounded by people and still feel disconnected. It’s an internal sense that you’re not fulfilled or that you don’t belong.”

That nuance matters. A man might go to the pub with friends, play rec hockey or show up at work every day and still feel profoundly isolated. Latti recognized that dynamic in his own life.

“Most of my friendships were just: go to the gym, go for drinks and watch a fight,” he said. “My friends were all good people, but we weren’t actually connecting beyond the activity.” Only later, after meeting a fellow veteran who was willing to talk openly about mental health did Latti experience something different. “We’d just meet for coffee and actually talk,” he said. “That was new for me and I realized I wanted more of that.”

How loneliness affects mental health and substance use

Loneliness rarely exists in isolation. It often intertwines with substance use, depression and suicide risk. Dr. Sharp was quick to point out that alcohol plays a complicated role in male social spaces.

“It can be the glue that brings men together,” he said. “But it’s also a depressant and for some guys it becomes a way to numb or avoid the pain.”

During Dr. Sharp’s extensive research interviews, men described alcohol as both a social lubricant and an emotional hedge. It allowed them to say: “I love you, man” and then blame it on the booze the next day. There is even emerging evidence that chronic loneliness can carry health risks comparable to smoking 15 cigarettes a day with links to heart disease and premature mortality.

In Latti’s case, alcohol sometimes eased social anxiety, but also blurred into something more dangerous.“I’ve had issues with substance abuse and suicidal ideation,” he shared candidly during our conversation. “Not just in the last five years – for the past 30 years now.” Latti worked in law enforcement, an environment he described as highly masculine and emotionally restrictive. “I walled up my emotions: that was survival in my line of work, but in hindsight it wasn’t healthy.”

Why divorce, aging and life transitions increase loneliness

Research shows that certain life transitions amplify risk for loneliness. Statistics Canada has reported significantly higher loneliness among seniors who are widowed, separated or divorced compared to those who are partnered. But the vulnerability isn’t limited to older men.

“When you narrow your social world to your partner and immediate family, you become more susceptible to a breakup,” Dr. Sharp explained. “If that relationship ends, you’ve suddenly lost both your romantic and much of your friendship infrastructure.”

For Latti, a divorce, sudden career upheaval and a global pandemic overlapped in devastating ways. “The shame I felt was heavy among work colleagues and family – everyone knew and I felt exposed.” But in that moment, Latti did something out-of-character: he poured himself into running, a sport he hated. First it was 100 kilometres, then nine ultramarathons, then 22 consecutive marathons and eventually a cross-Canada run that raised over $215,000 for mental health.

“In the depths of the worst period of my life, running gave me purpose – something to look forward to every day,” he said. Yet even that had its limits. “I was hyper-focused, training 200 kilometres a week. I didn’t have mental bandwidth for much else. This is a process and I’m still figuring it out.”

What helps you build reconnection

So what can you do if you recognize yourself in Sachin’s story? Research and lived experience point to a few simple starting points.

Dr. Sharp emphasized prevention across the life cycle: maintaining friendships during transitions, creating spaces for peer support and normalizing emotional literacy for boys and men. Peer support programs like BuddyUp, especially those grounded in shared experience and reciprocity, can be powerful. They allow men to both give and receive help, aligning with values of camaraderie and teamwork.

Latti distilled his recipe into three essentials: community, connection and movement. “If you’re part of a community, if you’re connecting with someone and if you have some kind of movement in your life, you’re going to be better off,” he said. “It won’t fix everything, but it gets you unstuck.”

That might mean texting a friend for coffee – not drinks. It could also mean joining a running group, volunteering for a cause or reaching out for peer support. Or if things feel overwhelming, it could mean speaking with a mental health professional because loneliness thrives in silence.

Why connection matters to your health

For many Canadian men, loneliness develops quietly through ordinary life transitions: finishing school, ending relationships, changing careers or moving away from community. But research increasingly shows that strong social connection is one of the most important protective factors for mental health. Rebuilding friendship and community doesn’t just improve emotional wellbeing. It can play a meaningful role in helping men stay healthy, resilient and alive.

If you’re feeling disconnected, these resources can help you reconnect and find support:

CMHF – Never Alone: Why Connection is Key to Men’s Mental Health

CMHF – How To Build Meaningful Friendships that Last

The Lonely Man Project: Supporting Men and the Families Who Love Them

CAMH Engage – The Hidden Crisis: Why Men Are Struggling in Silence

First Step Men’s Therapy – Overcoming Loneliness and Depression: Practical Tips for Men to Reconnect with Confidence

CMHA-Durham – The Quiet Crisis: Why So Many Men Feel Alone