The Numbers
In Pakistan, males consistently account for a higher proportion of reported suicide deaths than females, with estimates and studies showing that men represent roughly 59.5% to 61.87% of cases. A 2022 analysis of 2,295 reported suicides found 61.87% were completed by men, a male-to-female ratio of roughly 1.6:1.
Pakistan’s lack of official mortality data on suicide to the World Health Organization (WHO) is often attributed to criminalization — but that’s now partly outdated. Suicide attempts were actually decriminalized in Pakistan in December 2022, when Section 325 of the Pakistan Penal Code was repealed. What hasn’t caught up is implementation: as of 2026, suicide is still absent from Pakistan’s national health data, law enforcement in many districts still acts as if the old law exists, and deep religious and social stigma continues to suppress honest reporting. Local studies, media analyses, and medico-legal reports remain the best available window into the problem, and they consistently show males outnumbering females roughly 2:1 in regional analyses.
Young adult males (ages 19 to 39, and generally under 30) represent the largest share of recorded male suicide cases.
The Weight of Being the Provider
Traditional gender norms play a significant, well-documented role in driving male suicide rates in Pakistan. While patriarchy places severe socio-economic and legal restrictions on women, it simultaneously subjects men to intense psychological pressures that contribute heavily to suicidal ideation and behavior.
In Pakistan, a man’s worth is tied directly to his financial utility. He is expected to be the absolute, unyielding financial provider for his entire family. When hit by economic downturns, severe poverty, inflation, or unemployment, men often experience deep feelings of inadequacy or shame. The pressure is amplified because accepting financial help from a female spouse or family member is often culturally stigmatized or viewed as emasculating.
Taught Not to Feel
In Pakistan, men are not allowed to be emotional. It is such a common and extreme social conditioning that Pakistani society does not believe that men are emotional, rather they are logical. From a young age, we teach boys that vulnerability equals weakness. Expressions of grief, sadness, fear, or anxiety are heavily discouraged under the guise of “being a man”. This forced emotional suppression leaves many men lacking the vocabulary or outlets to process psychological trauma, leading to “silent suffering”. Instead of seeking comfort, intense emotional pain often manifests as external anger, domestic friction, substance abuse, or self-harm.
Pakistani men are profoundly hesitant to seek psychiatric help or therapy. Admitting to a mental health struggle, like depression or anxiety, is frequently feared as a loss of authority or respect within the household and community. Consequently, men often experience a crisis until it reaches a breaking point.
While honor-related violence and forced control disproportionately target women, patriarchal family dynamics also restrict young adult men. Young men often experience immense psychological strain due to absolute obedience demanded by patriarchal figureheads (fathers or elder brothers) regarding professional choices, financial contributions, or forced marriage arrangements.
A Generation Priced Out
Most males who commit suicide are younger than 30. According to the Pakistan Economic Survey, youth unemployment for the 15-to-24 cohort has climbed significantly, and the broader labour market generates far fewer formal jobs than the number of graduates entering it each year.
Young men invest heavily — often using their family’s life savings — into gaining an education. When they enter a market where a significant share of graduates end up underemployed or working entirely outside their fields, a profound sense of failure, hopelessness, and “thwarted belongingness” sets in.
For the few young men who do secure employment, entry-level salaries in the formal and informal markets routinely average between Rs. 25,000 to Rs. 35,000 per month.
Concurrently, hyper-inflation, rising utility bills, and soaring fuel prices make it structurally impossible to sustain a basic standard of living with these wages.
Because patriarchal norms dictate that a young man must immediately begin financially providing for his aging parents and younger siblings, his inability to stretch this meager income to cover family necessities is deeply felt as a personal, masculine failure.
Faced with domestic stagnation, hundreds of thousands of young Pakistani men migrate abroad every year in search of work — over 860,000 left in 2024 alone, most of them under 35. For the young men left behind who cannot afford the exorbitant fees required to legally migrate or secure visas, there is an intense sense of being “left in the dust.”
Blaming Himself, Not the System
When a young man in Pakistan fails to find a job or provide for his family, patriarchal culture tells him it is his personal failure as a man, not a failure of the system. Because he is conditioned to believe his worth is purely individual, he internalizes the shame. Instead of channeling his frustration into collective action, organizing labor movements, or challenging the system, he falls into isolation, self-blame, and depression.
He was never taught that the system could be the problem. He was only ever taught that he was supposed to be the solution. That’s the quieter tragedy underneath the statistic: not that men are somehow more fragile, but that they were never given permission to be anything other than fine. Until a man’s worth stops being measured entirely in rupees earned and silence kept, the gap between male and female suicide in Pakistan isn’t likely to close on its own.
This is a sensitive topic. If you or someone you know is struggling, please reach out to a mental health professional or a crisis helpline in your area.
References
Springer — Sociodemographic Characteristics and Patterns of Suicide in Pakistan
The News on Sunday — “Beyond Decriminalisation”
The Express Tribune — Job crisis letter, salary and migration data
