NB. In the podcast, the following terms refer to:
*SN BEN: Springer Nature's Black Employee Network
**Hive: (SN employee community platform)
Audio Transcription
India Foster: Hi everyone, and welcome to our third SDG Podcast, where we’ll reflect on the last month in the Movember movement—a campaign that started with moustaches and men’s physical health but has grown into a global movement for mental health and suicide prevention.
But when we talk about men’s health, we have to talk about inequality, because Black men’s experiences with mental health are not the same as everyone else’s. From cultural stigma and the pressure to “stay strong” to racism and mistrust in healthcare, the barriers are real and the impact is serious. In fact, detention rates for the Black or Black British group were more than three and a half times higher than those for the white male group in 2022–2023—a stark reminder of the inequalities in mental health treatment and outcomes.
So today, we’re exploring why spreading awareness for men’s mental health—especially Black men’s mental health—matters to all of us. We’ll also touch on a major aspect of men’s health that the Movember campaign highlights: prostate cancer.
I’m joined by my colleagues Clive, Michael, and Courtney, and together we’ll unpack some big questions: Why don’t men talk about mental health? What unique challenges do Black men face? And how can campaigns like Movember make sure no one is left behind?
I’m really excited to speak with all three of you today. Thank you so much for joining me. Clive, could you please introduce yourself first, and then I’ll pass over to Michael and Courtney?
Clive Wilson: Yes. Clive Wilson. I am an Enterprise Monitoring and Observability Specialist. I was asked to join SN BEN, and I’ve been consistently attending many SN BEN events over the last three years as well.
IF: Thank you, Clive. Welcome to the podcast. Michael, can you introduce yourself, please?
Michael Broomes: Yes—thanks for having me, India. My name is Michael Broomes, and I’m the Advertising Production Manager here in the U.S. for Springer Nature. I manage the advertising production team, and I've been here 18 years now. I’ve been involved in SN BEN for about three years, with a more active role over the last two or so. I’m glad to be here, and hopefully I can add some light to the topic today.
IF: Thank you. And Courtney, finally?
Courtney Little: Hi—good morning, good afternoon, good evening. My name is Courtney Little. Thank you, India, for having me as well. I’m a Senior Licensing Manager here in the U.S., working in our Academic Sales division. I’m also proud to say I’m a founding member of SN BEN and was the inaugural Global Chair of our employee network. I’ve been with Springer Nature a little over nine years—coming up on the ten-year mark—and it has been great to be part of SN BEN and all that we do, both internally and through our external events. So something like this is really meaningful to me, and I’m excited for today’s discussion.
IF: Thank you, Courtney—and thank you for helping establish this incredible SN BEN community, our Black Employee Network. It has been such a pleasure to collaborate with all the members on these important topics.
So, to start: Why is it critical to highlight men’s mental health as a public-health issue? And how can awareness campaigns like Movember help challenge the stigma around men seeking help?
Clive, could you help me with this question?
CW: Yes. I think every adult will go through some kind of mental-health challenge at some stage. But in the Black community, the pressures on Black men are often greater—whether at work or in our personal lives. The pressure is to be exceptional, rather than simply allowed to be ourselves. And sometimes it’s just hard for us to “be.”
Thinking about mental health, a recent incident in Huntingdon comes to mind—where a young man was found stabbing people on a train. It was obvious there were mental-health issues that had gone undiagnosed for years. Health professionals knew about it, but not enough had been done, and it escalated to the point where he became a danger to the public. So mental health is important, and it needs to be diagnosed and addressed early, because it can become a danger to everyone.
IF: Thank you, Clive. Michael, can I ask you: How do systemic inequalities—healthcare access, socioeconomic status, racial discrimination—contribute to poorer mental-health outcomes for Black men? And what structural barriers prevent Black men from receiving equitable mental-health care compared to white men?
MB: That’s a very complicated and deep issue, because you’re talking about cultural factors, social factors in our communities, and systemic issues in the healthcare system—things like lack of funds, lack of insurance, and lack of access to professionals who can diagnose or treat problems.
Starting with the cultural aspect: many of us have seen, from childhood, how issues are dismissed. When a child shows signs of learning differences or behavioural struggles, older people might say, “Oh, they’re just a little off,” or “That’s just how they are,” or “They’re special.” Instead of getting assessments or support, the response would be, “They need prayer,” or “They need church,” or “They need God,” instead of medical or psychological help.
Then there’s the historical mistrust of healthcare—because of real past abuses that treated Black people as test subjects. That mistrust is still very present.
There’s also the lack of insurance or financial resources. Many people simply cannot afford the initial doctor’s visit, let alone ongoing treatment or medication.
And then, when we get into adulthood, there's another issue: when someone is having a mental-health episode, the first people who are called—especially here in the U.S.—are the police. Police aren’t mental-health professionals. Even with training, they are not equipped to handle these situations, and their default response can often be force. We see many cases escalate unnecessarily, especially when the person in crisis is Black.
Some cities, like New York, have discussed pairing police with mental-health responders, but it’s complicated. Mental-health workers aren’t equipped for dangerous situations either. It all comes back to funding, priorities, and the people making decisions.
Systemic issues have existed for decades. Changing them requires long-term commitment, leadership turnover, and continual pressure. And honestly, when it comes down to money versus health, money often wins.
But I think we as a community have to keep pushing our lawmakers to make the kinds of changes in the healthcare system and in the big institutions that run these services. First and foremost, we need those changes to actually happen so they can trickle down. And hopefully, as younger, fresher minds come into the medical professions, the way they look at things and the way they handle things will change as well.
IF: Yes, I agree. And right now is an especially difficult climate for funding—particularly in the U.S., with all the federal cuts to the healthcare system. I can imagine that will become another barrier we need to address, especially for mental healthcare, which is already significantly underfunded compared to other areas of healthcare and research. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts on that.
CL: I'm sorry, India—before we leave this, is it all right if I chime in?
IF: Of course, please do.
CL: I'm sitting over here antsy—I want to say something. It’s not a lot, but as I was listening to you speak, Michael, and thinking about something Clive touched on earlier, something came to mind.
When we talk about funding and allocation—and India, you’re right about the federal funding cuts being such a big issue here in the U.S., especially for government agencies and in the academic world, which I work in and see first-hand—it made me think about the whole topic of “defunding the police.”
That phrase is such a misnomer. In situations like the ones we’re discussing, I think it’s important to understand what it actually means. I’m no expert, but people hear “defund the police” and immediately think, “We’re getting rid of police officers,” or “We’re cutting police jobs across the country,” especially in larger cities. But it's not simply about removing resources from police departments—it’s about finding smarter ways to use those resources.
Especially in situations like the ones Michael mentioned, we should be asking: Where can we reallocate funds to make more sense and provide better outcomes, particularly in inner-city communities? For example, bringing mental-health professionals along on certain calls—or in some cases, allowing them to respond on their own—so that these situations are not escalated unnecessarily. It’s about defunding and also de-escalating—preventing police shootings, preventing harm.
There are people who go to school for this. People with degrees who are trained to handle these scenarios. That’s not all of us. So why not allocate resources more appropriately?
Because in so many of these instances, it’s not that someone simply wakes up one day and decides to harm someone. There is a mental-health issue present. That behaviour is not normal—but talking about it should be normal. And that ties back to something Clive mentioned earlier: the conversation needs to be normalized. That’s where initiatives like Movember are so valuable—they help start that conversation.
I had all of that on my mind and wanted to share it before we moved on. Again, “defunding the police” isn’t just about removing money; it’s about making smarter choices with the resources we already have.
IF: Absolutely. Thank you so much for your thoughts, Courtney. And I did want to speak with you about this anyway—you touched on learning these things from a young age. In the U.S., school shootings are often talked about, and we need to properly address mental health from early childhood.
So when we consider Black male mental health, how can we challenge gender stereotypes—both within Black communities and wider society—to create healthier understandings of masculinity and emotional wellbeing? And how can we teach young Black boys that it’s okay to cry, and to express their feelings? How do we incorporate these conversations?
CL: That’s a big question. There’s a lot to unpack, because the roots of this issue run so deep in our community.
I mentioned the benefits of initiatives like Movember, which help start these conversations. But honestly, a lot of it begins at home with our young Black boys. It’s about Black men being present in their children’s lives. And I say “Black men,” but this applies to daughters as much as sons.
I have a son and a daughter, so I see both sides. With my son, I have to show him—by example—that he can be strong and dependable, but also vulnerable. There is nothing wrong with vulnerability. There is nothing wrong with talking about what you’re feeling.
And this starts with simple conversations:
“How was your day?”
“What made you happy today?”
“What made you sad today?”
“Why did that make you feel that way?”
At the same time, I want my daughter to see that yes, her father is a protector and a provider—but sometimes he needs a hug, too. It’s okay for me to cry. So one day, she will know it’s okay for her husband to cry. It’s okay for her future son to cry. Vulnerability doesn’t mean weakness. It doesn’t mean giving up—it means releasing emotion so you can keep going.
There is no switch we can flip to change generations of conditioning. The roots go deep. Stereotypes like “Black men don’t smile in pictures,” “Black men don’t cry,” “Black men must always be strong”—those stereotypes have been ingrained for generations. You can trace them all the way back to slavery, where Black men were emasculated, stripped of agency, and denied their humanity.
We’ve spent centuries fighting to reclaim our masculinity. So now, when someone says, “It’s okay for Black men to cry,” some people hear that as a threat to something we had to fight to get back. But it’s not a contradiction—you can be strong and vulnerable at the same time.
So the conversation has to start early and start at home. Community resources, cultural organizations—all of that is important. But the foundation is built in the home, where children first learn what emotional wellbeing looks like. Just just displaying that behavior in front of your children so that their generation, and perhaps even the generation after that, will see those barriers broken down little by little until it becomes normalized. Then Black men won’t have to fight to regain a sense of masculinity that they feel has been lost.
IF: Of course. Thank you so much. I think it’s so important—no matter what background you're from—that parents teach this from a young age. And with woke culture and how progressive we’re becoming, we are going in the right direction. But of course, Courtney, your generation is different from your children’s, and different from your parents’, so it’s really a learned behavior.
Right now, I think it’s harder for young Black men to seek help when they need it, even when they know they can be vulnerable, as you say. It also reminded me of a West End play the SN BEN ladies and I went to watch last year called For Black Boys Who Have Considered Suicide When the Hue Gets Too Heavy. It explores how different groups of boys overcome issues from their respective backgrounds and come together in group therapy.
It’s very accepting, a very beautiful play, and it tackles all of these discussions in a single production. It was fantastic. And I think, Michael, you also had comments on this topic as well, if you'd like to share.
MB: Yeah—just to add to what Courtney was saying, even in relation to what we planned to mention about the conversations between boys and men. It’s so important because it’s really about experience. If someone older, who’s already walked the path, can offer some guidance or credibility while a younger person is encountering these issues for the first time, not knowing how to deal with them or express themselves… those discussions matter.
It’s important to let them know it’s okay—to maybe handle things differently than we handled them at their age, especially if we didn’t have anyone to guide us or give ideas on what was acceptable, or what wasn’t.
Often we see young people overreact to situations, and as older folks we think, “They could have handled that differently.” But if we go back 10, 15, or 30 years, we probably would’ve handled it the same way they did. So yes—being able to talk to each other, add some wisdom and guidance—what Courtney said about leading by example for his kids is very important.
IF: How do you think workplaces and community organizations can create safe, inclusive spaces where Black men feel comfortable discussing their mental health challenges? What can we do within Springer Nature, and also outside the company in the wider community? Clive, can you take this one?
CW: Sure. Within Springer Nature we have SN BEN, which I think is an excellent platform and community for us. There are also posts on Hive that are very insightful. Outside the company, there are many groups—not just exclusive to Black men. I’m part of one where the age range is from seven to seventy, and we talk about a range of difficult topics.
If it weren’t for the icebreakers, activities, and simply showing up, none of us would be talking about Movember, or relationships, or anything else. The reality is that as men, once we reach a certain age, we don’t really make new friends. So community action is very important. It helps.
For the groups I’ve been part of, opening up about difficult topics with someone who looks like me—well, that just wouldn’t happen otherwise. As I said, we don’t tend to make new friends or have new experiences as we get older. For example, I learned to swim for the first time this year—something I never thought I’d do.
Historically, other communities may have local pubs or social spaces where men gather to talk about personal or professional life. We’ve never really had that infrastructure. So living outside a predominantly Black community can make this even more difficult. There are groups—just recently in King’s Cross I was invited to join a walking group—so the opportunities exist. But it requires people to make that leap themselves.
IF: Thank you, Clive. And I should’ve said this earlier—but you’ve been key in initiating the SN BEN Barbershop, our Black Employee Network sub-chapter just for the men in the network to meet and chat. As you say, Clive, you need spaces where you feel comfortable and understood.
All three of you are part of the Barbershop, which only launched a couple of months ago. What things have you done so far?
CW: It’s a bit difficult globally, but having those rant sessions has really opened up conversations. Even though it’s a transatlantic set-up, there’s a lot of commonality—the same pressures. Hopefully someone from Brazil or South Africa will join too, so we can deepen the discussions. And with a little budget, maybe even meet face-to-face one day.
IF: That’s fantastic, and I think it’s good for everyone to know they’re not alone. It’s appreciated to have SN BEN Barbershop, where people can speak to others who look like them.
Do either of you—Courtney or Michael—have any comments before we move on?
CL: Yes. I was just going to say a bit more about the Barbershop and how it’s evolved. When it started, we didn’t really know what direction it would take. And on Hive, I’ve spoken about how amazing it is that it naturally evolved into what a barbershop is meant to be.
If you think about it, trying to formalize it actually takes away from its essence. In a real barbershop, you’re just there to get a haircut, and whatever the conversation is, everyone joins in. Topics range from politics, to parenting, to dating—nothing formal, just community.
For us, those calls have become exactly that. On our last call, we even got into a conversation about football—or soccer—and Clive and the guys from the UK were teaching us about the rivalries and where they originated.
So yes, that’s how it’s evolved and where we hope to take it next year.
MB: For me, it’s just good to see representation in some of the areas these brothers work in. When you look at our demographic breakdown across the company, there really aren’t that many of us. So it’s just good to interact and get to know the fellows on the other side of the pond.
IF: I’m glad you’re all able to participate and make time for each other—it’s so important. I’d like to touch on the prostate cancer side of the Movember movement, and how it affects Black men differently. In fact, one in four Black men will be diagnosed with prostate cancer, compared to one in eight white men. And one in twelve Black men will die from it, compared with one in twenty-four white men.
So Clive, how do systemic inequalities in healthcare contribute to these higher rates of missed or late diagnoses in Black men?
CW: A lot of these inequalities are historical. As Courtney mentioned earlier, we really need young people to learn about these issues early—during secondary school. When they reach 35 or 40, those conversations may resurface and encourage them to get checked.
Historically, prostate exams were very invasive, but now we have PSA blood tests that detect elevated levels that may indicate prostate cancer, or something else. MRI scans are also essential.
The adverts help, but we need more—social media, TV, and not just during November. Like Black History Month, it shouldn’t be limited to one month a year.
Early intervention and awareness from a young age are key. And there’s even a relationship between vitamin D deficiency and prostate cancer, especially in the northern hemisphere. Ultimately, individuals need to take ownership—but awareness must start early.
IF: I agree. And for you in the US, where insurance is incredibly expensive and not everyone has access—especially in Black or minority communities—how does that affect things? Can you give some perspective?
CL: Yes. Listening to Clive, I’m shaking my head because it’s such a layered issue. First, assuming people even have coverage is a huge assumption, because many don’t.
It starts with actually going to the doctor. In my friend groups, we regularly ask each other, “Did you get your check-up this year?” Simple things.
And for my son, I make sure he knows I go every year. I even bring him along so he can hear the questions doctors ask and understand what check-ups involve.
Some people grew up in families where no one had major illnesses, so they think, “It won’t happen to me.” But it can.
When I was younger, going to the clinic meant getting a prescription and being sent home—no screenings, no resources. Not because they didn’t want to check, but because they couldn’t afford to.
We need normalized conversation. We need public funding and resources for communities that lack access. And even when people have adequate coverage, the real challenge is getting them to actually go. Many of us don’t want to miss work. It feels like an inconvenience—waiting in the clinic, going through the process.
Sometimes we’re so busy taking others to their appointments that we neglect ourselves. So we push things off: “It’s just a headache,” when it could be something more. Early detection saves lives, but many of us wait too long.
IF: And do you think there’s denial within the community? Avoidance, even when people suspect something’s wrong?
MB: Yes. Absolutely. Many people are afraid of what they’ll hear. There’s a mindset of “If I ignore it, it’ll go away.” But getting checked gives clarity, reassurance, and time to act.
CW: If I can add something from a personal perspective—my uncle died of prostate cancer at 69. He was hardworking and high-achieving, but he didn’t look after himself. By the time he went to the doctor, things weren’t working as they should. It was far too late. And this story is all too common.
IF: Thank you, Clive. It’s so important for people in our community to seek help. Many don’t know their bodies well enough to recognise when something’s wrong.
CW: Women generally go to the doctor sooner; men often keep things to themselves, hoping issues will resolve on their own.
IF: Women also talk more openly—about relationships, problems, emotions—whereas men often don’t have those deeper conversations with friends. That contributes to the high rate of suicide among men. They mask things very well but don’t speak up.
That's why the Barbershop and the groups you mentioned, Clive, are so crucial—to normalize men speaking openly, knowing they can be vulnerable, and that they don’t have to deal with everything alone.
MB: Something that’s never really mentioned—and I think it’s very important to this overall conversation—is the role you women play in our lives, India. And by that I mean, as Courtney mentioned earlier when talking about his situation and being involved in his children’s lives, we have to remember that for a large majority of us, we grew up without our fathers either in our lives or in our homes. So we’re often raised primarily by our mothers, our aunts, our older sisters, or maybe our grandmothers.
A lot of us grow up with that idea of being the “man of the house” from a very young age and the weight that comes with it. You’re told, “Be strong. Don’t be soft. Don’t be a punk.” All the things people say to toughen you up. You’re told not to whine. You aren’t treated the same way your sisters might be, if you have them. There’s just a different expectation placed on you, especially without an older male figure around.
So we learn early on to be strong and not to be a burden—especially if our mothers are already struggling. And then as we get older, we start dating, moving into our teens and twenties. And what do a lot of women tend to be drawn to? Often, it’s the rugged, strong, silent type. You can push back on any of this if you want, India, but there is that dynamic where if you’re gentle, soft, or sensitive, you’re not always the guy women gravitate toward.
So if the women in our lives—the ones who are supposed to love us—made it a little easier to be vulnerable, to not have to be strong all the time, to actually express our concerns or struggles, that would make a big difference. Not that we’d always do it, because we still feel that responsibility to protect and maintain a certain image of strength. But often, we don’t feel comfortable opening up because it’s not always received well by the women around us.
And honestly, I think a lot of guys would agree that so much of what we do, from the time we’re kids to the time we die, is in pursuit of approval—from the women in our lives, from the women we love. So if we felt truly safe being open, many of us would be more willing to do it. Maybe women become better at receiving that vulnerability as they get older—I don’t know. But I think the role women play from birth onward is huge, and it rarely gets acknowledged. Even when a father is present, the mother is often the main nurturer. The influence women have on us is incredibly impactful in shaping the men we become.
IF: That’s such an interesting perspective, and I’ve honestly never thought about it that way. I think our listeners will really appreciate that and be able to reflect on it. Thank you for sharing your thought process so we can understand and appreciate why you handle situations the way you do, and so we can help you feel open to sharing with us.
So finally, to wrap up: what are the long-term societal costs of ignoring the mental health crisis among Black men? Courtney, can you comment on this? And also, how can awareness campaigns like Movember be used as platforms to amplify Black voices and challenge racial inequalities?
CL: Sure. Starting with the long-term societal costs—if we continue to ignore this crisis, three major issues that already affect our communities will continue: poverty, violence, and poor health, both mental and physical. Ignoring mental health just keeps that cycle going, and it becomes generational, like so many other issues.
Addressing these issues would do the opposite. It would strengthen our workforce, because people would be better equipped to handle jobs. It would improve family stability—whether that’s in single-parent homes or traditional two-parent households. Stable homes lead to stable communities. When communities are stable, neighbors can rely on each other. That’s the village we always talk about—“it takes a village to raise a child.” When you don’t have that village, everything becomes harder.
There’s also the potential to reduce healthcare costs over time. If we lower costs, existing resources stretch farther. And initiatives like Movember help because they keep the conversation going. They normalize it so policymakers see these issues as priorities for the communities they represent. The more visible these campaigns are, the more likely politicians are to push policies that actually make a difference.
I don’t think the solution begins in just one place—it starts in many areas working together cohesively.
IF: Thank you so much, Courtney. I think it’s also about encouraging people from our communities to participate in these campaigns so we’re represented in them, just as you all are joining me now. I’m really grateful. Clive or Michael, any final thoughts before we wrap up?
CW: From a UK perspective, COVID brought a lot of these issues forward. We saw more groups advertising to the community, especially targeting men. But if these initiatives aren’t sustained, I think we’ll see more toxic masculinity on the streets. If it isn’t addressed holistically, it could even pose public dangers, like some of the extreme incidents we’ve seen recently. Funding is needed. And regarding Movember, screening needs to be more accessible and better advertised. It’s a shame that many fatherless families miss out, because prostate cancer is easily treatable if caught early.
MB: I’ll just add that mental health is a huge issue. The pandemic highlighted it even more. We’re seeing it in everyday life—issues on subways, random attacks on the streets. You can put support systems in place, but people still have to want the help, and families also have limits on how much they can take on. That’s one reason people end up on the streets or in unsafe situations.
Movember helps by raising awareness. Maybe during that month, someone stops and thinks, “I need to do something about this,” or “I need to help someone.” It’s a huge issue—ongoing and probably something we’ll continue to struggle with. All we can do is take small steps and hope things get better over time.
IF: Thank you all for such thoughtful and thought-provoking answers. I’m so grateful you’ve done this. I’m sure we’ll encourage Black men in our community who are listening to take the steps they need, to know they can get help, and that there are people to talk to. This is exactly what SDG 3 stands for—good health and well-being, preventing early mortality and addressing these issues. I’m really grateful you joined, and I’ll definitely be in touch for a future podcast.
All: Thank you, India. Thank you for having us.