We mustn't over-interpret suicide statistics - every one is an individual tragedy

New government figures show middle-aged men are at greatest risk of suicide.

Middle-aged men are now the group at greatest risk of suicide, according to figures released by the government this week.

It's tempting to use that information to attempt to further a view we might already hold, but these statistics are so much more than just numbers. Each piece of data represents a life that was ended too quickly by someone who felt that they couldn't continue. Suicide is such a private and personal thing that it verges on the disrespectful to think that we can simply package away each individual decision into a set of criteria.

Each such decision is a tragedy, a sadness, and a loss of self, a disappearance into memories of a person who had been and who could have been so much more. Each bare number represents a story that wasn't quite turned around in time, of a series of events that came together to result in one person feeling that they couldn't continue. And then there are the people who were left behind - not selfishly, but left behind nonetheless.

All that said, there does appear to suggest that some kind of change is taking place. A person's gender (more specifically, maleness) is one factor used when deciding whether someone presents a suicide risk; another is the age of the person, usually whether they are under 35. It has previously been thought that the risk of suicide was less for older people - although there are of course hundreds of other reasons and circumstances that collide in each individual tragedy.

Perhaps, if nothing else, these numbers serve to remind us that there is no such thing as a typical person who is at risk of taking their own life. It's not necessarily a young man, or indeed an old man. They don't wear labels and they don't often express their feelings or intentions outwardly, sometimes until it is too late to stop them.

So what can we do? The only thing that we can take out of this is that we know there are people who need to be helped, who need to be reached out to, and we need to get there in time. Four thousand people every year who feel that it has all become too much.

I have tried to be as careful as possible to present this article in a way that won't trigger anything for anyone, but if it has, there really are people who can be spoken to, and who can make a difference (the Samaritans website can be found here).

I know they can help because I have spoken to them myself. Without them, I don't know where I would be now. Or rather, I do.

Thoughts of suicide are not something confined to men, of any age, and there is no way of predicting how or when they might come. Talking does make a difference, even if it is to someone you don't know at all. Whether or not you are a middle-aged man, you are not alone. Never alone.

 

 

 

The BBC News report of the latest government statistics.
Patrolling the murkier waters of the mainstream media
Getty Images.
Show Hide image

Europe's elections show why liberals should avoid fatalism

France, Germany and the Netherlands suggest there is nothing inevitable about the right's advance.

Humans are unavoidably pattern-seeking creatures. We give meaning to disparate events where little or none may exist. So it is with Brexit and Donald Trump. The proximity of these results led to declarations of liberalism's demise. After decades of progress, the tide was said to have unavoidably turned.

Every election is now treated as another round in the great duel between libralism and populism. In the Netherlands, the perennial nativist Geert Wilders was gifted outsize attention in the belief that he could surf the Brexit-Trump wave to victory. Yet far from triumphing, the Freedom Party finished a distant second, increasing its seats total to 20 (four fewer than in 2010). Wilders' defeat was always more likely than not (and he would have been unable to form a government) but global events gifted him an aura of invincibility.

In France, for several years, Marine Le Pen has been likely to make the final round of the next presidential election. But it was only after Brexit and Trump's election that she was widely seen as a potential victor. As in 2002, the front républicain is likely to defeat the Front National. The winner, however, will not be a conservative but a liberal. According to the post-Trump narrative, Emmanuel Macron's rise should have been impossible. But his surge (albeit one that has left him tied with Le Pen in the first round) suggests liberalism is in better health than suggested.

In Germany, where the far-right Alternative für Deutschland was said to be remorselessly advancing, politics is returning to traditional two-party combat. The election of Martin Schulz has transformed the SPD's fortunes to the point where it could form the next government. As some Labour MPs resign themselves to perpeutal opposition, they could be forgiven for noting what a difference a new leader can make.

2016 will be forever remembered as the year of Brexit and Trump. Yet both events could conceivably have happened in liberalism's supposed heyday. The UK has long been the EU's most reluctant member and, having not joined the euro or the Schengen Zone, already had one foot outside the door. In the US, the conditions for the election of a Trump-like figure have been in place for decades. For all this, Leave only narrowly won and Hillary Clinton won three million more votes than her opponent. Liberalism is neither as weak as it is now thought, nor as strong as it was once thought.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.