Men make 28% fewer claims on workplace health benefits than women (Employee Benefits, 2026). Not because the need isn’t there, but because for many, they don’t feel the benefits are designed for them – until something goes seriously wrong.
The reasons run deeper than awareness
Low engagement is rarely about men not caring. It’s about relevance, trust and ease of use – and right now, many benefits programmes are falling short on all three.
Start with relevance. Many benefits are designed or marketed around health, family or flexibility needs that don’t feel immediately applicable to a significant portion of the male workforce. If a benefit doesn’t seem to speak to someone’s life, they won’t engage with it – regardless of how good it is on paper.
Then there’s culture. From an early age, many men absorb the message that self-sufficiency is strength and asking for help is weakness. That belief doesn’t disappear at the office door. It shows up as the employee who shrugs off stress as “just part of the job.” The manager who hasn’t taken a sick day in three years – not because he’s been well, but because he’s been pushing through. Add the fear that using mental health or wellbeing benefits could be seen as a sign of weakness or poor commitment, and it’s easy to see why uptake remains low even when the provision is strong.
There’s also a one-size-fits-all problem. Men are not a single group. Benefits that aren’t tailored to different life stages and circumstances will fail to resonate with large parts of the workforce – male or otherwise. Generic packages produce generic engagement.
The communication gap
Much of the language in benefits communications, whether it be around self-care, emotional wellbeing or vulnerability, resonates more naturally with some employees than others. That can inadvertently signal that certain benefits simply aren’t “for” certain groups.
Format matters too. Long-form guides and annual benefit statements reach people already motivated to look. They do little for the employee who has never felt the need.
And if accessing a benefit requires navigating multiple portals, seeking approvals, or wading through admin, many people will simply opt out. When a benefit feels like more work than the problem it solves, it’s obvious why usage drops.
Designing benefits that meet people where they are
The answer isn’t separate programmes. It’s thinking more carefully about framing, access and channel.
A few principles make a meaningful difference:
- Anchor communications to practical outcomes, i.e. “this benefit can help you sleep better and perform under pressure” often lands better than “this benefit supports your mental health.”
- Use trusted voices: line managers and peer advocates carry far more credibility than formal communications ever will.
- Time it well: men engage more readily when content is tied to something tangible –
a health screening, a life event, an annual review.
- Remove the friction: if a benefit takes more than a minute to access, expect low uptake. The easier it is to start, the more likely people are to begin.
The goal isn’t to change how people think about support overnight. It’s to design benefits that don’t require someone to already be the kind of person who asks for help.
A wearable or health-tracking app promoted around performance and sleep data, rather than emotional wellbeing.
A virtual GP service promoted as a time-saver, not a mental health tool.
A financial wellbeing platform framed around performance and security rather than vulnerability.
Small shifts in how existing benefits are positioned and accessed can make a material difference to who actually uses them. Because by the time many men do ask, things have become far more serious, and far more costly, than they ever needed to be.
