We Are Losing Our Men

 We Are Losing Our Men

I am 64 years old.

And one of the things I have noticed as I have gotten older is how difficult it has become to meet men who are simply… there.

Men who are healthy enough to build a life with. Men who aren't drinking themselves into oblivion. Men who aren't smoking constantly. Men who aren't carrying unresolved relationships, trauma, addictions or other wounds that make intimacy almost impossible.

Of course, women have our own struggles. I'm not pretending otherwise.

But something has been happening to men for a long time.

And I don't think we talk about it enough.

Because while we argue about the toxic drug crisis in terms of statistics, policing, housing and healthcare, we are also losing an enormous number of men in the years when they should be working, raising families, falling in love, making friends and growing older with us.

In B.C., 77% of people who died from toxic drugs in 2025 were male. Most were in the 30–59 age range. These are not the very old. These are people who should still have decades ahead of them.

And among people whose employment history was known, trades, transport and equipment operators were among the largest occupational groups.

Now Canada is saying we need 80,000 to 100,000 new Red Seal trades workers by 2030–31.

So I can't help asking:

What happened to some of the men we already had?

How many were construction workers?

Truck drivers?

Mechanics?

Heavy-equipment operators?

Welders?

Electricians?

How many were injured on the job and started taking something for pain?

How many were carrying trauma they never learned how to talk about?

How many were taught that real men don't ask for help?

How many were drinking or using drugs long before fentanyl entered the picture?

And how many simply slipped through the cracks until one day they were gone?

I think about my own children.

My child lost their first love.

Someone who should have had a future.

And that loss doesn't show up in a labour-market report.

It doesn't show up as a vacant apprenticeship.

It doesn't show up as a missing worker on a government spreadsheet.

It shows up as an empty place in someone's heart.

And I think about all the mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, partners and children who are carrying those empty places.

We are not just losing workers.

We are losing sons.

We are losing fathers.

We are losing brothers.

We are losing partners.

We are losing friends.

We are losing young men who should have had the opportunity to become old men.

And then we turn around and say:

We need 100,000 more tradespeople.

Yes, Canada needs tradespeople. We need people to build our homes, infrastructure and communities. The federal government is investing billions toward recruiting and training them.

But perhaps alongside asking how we can recruit the next 100,000, we should ask another question:

How do we keep the people we already have alive?

Because a society that loses its people and then simply tries to replace them has missed something profoundly important.

People are not units of labour.

They are somebody's whole world.

And some of the men we are desperately trying to replace were already here.

We just didn't save them.

#ToxicDrugCrisis

#OverdoseAwareness

#InternationalOverdoseAwarenessDay

#SkilledTrades

#MensMentalHealth

#EndTheStigma

#FentanylCrisis

#Canada

#GriefAndLoss

#EveryLifeMatters