Why We Need More Ted Lassos and Fewer Toxic Role Models

The Belonging Lab
Nov 18
3 min read

If you had told me a few months ago that I (someone who doesn't like football) would not only watch Ted Lasso but be moved enough to post about it for International Men's Day, I'd have laughed. And yet, here we are...

Season 2, episode 8 hit me hard. Not because of the tactics or the goals, but because of the tenderness. In a world that often equates masculinity with stoicism, dominance and emotional distance, this episode offered something radical - men being vulnerable. Men being soft. Men being whole.

Ted, the relentlessly upbeat coach, admits to panic attacks. Roy, the archetypal tough guy, shows gentle care for his niece and embraces Jamie (a rival) after a brutal encounter with Jamie's abusive father. And in a moment that cracked something open, Ted shares the truth

about his own father's suicide and the grief he has carried ever since.

The other men didn't shy away or laugh it off. Instead, they related to each other, consoled each other and ultimately, showed their humanity. In a locker room - one of the most traditionally "macho" spaces - we saw men drop the armour. We saw emotional literacy, intergenerational healing and solidarity that didn't rely on bravado. Most importantly, we saw how powerful it is when men model this for each other, and for the boys and men watching at home.

This stretches beyond TV, because the reality is stark...

a magnifying glass in the belonging labs theme

Every day, 14 men die by suicide.
75% of suicides in England and Wales are male. That's three times higher than women.
Suicide is the leading cause of death for men under 50 in the UK.
Since the year 2000, over 90,000 men have died by suicide in England and Wales - enough to fill Wembley Stadium.

Just sit with that for a minute...

With data like this, it goes without saying that men are far less likely to seek help, with only 36% of referrals to mental health services being for men, even though 1 in 8 men experience depression or anxiety.

Why? Stigma. Cultural norms and pressures. Services that don't feel designed for them. A society that still rewards emotional distance over vulnerability.

While shows like Ted Lasso give us glimpses of healthier masculinity, the online world is flooded with influencers like Andrew Tate - figures who glorify dominance, wealth and control and dismiss emotional openness as weakness. TikTok "influencers" showing boys and men the "correct" ways to do things like sit on a chair or pick up their keys so as to display their "masculinity". These narratives don't just miss the mark; they actively harm.

Research links rigid masculinity "norms" to higher rates of depression, anxiety and substance abuse. When boys grow up believing care and vulnerability make them "less of a man", we all lose.

What struck me about Ted Lasso was how radical it felt to see men in a football setting - one of the most traditionally "macho" spaces - drop the armour and show vulnerability. But here's what I have come to discover: this isn't just fiction, we're starting to see glimpses of this shift in the real world too.

still from the Norwich City Football video

Take Norwich City Football Club's powerful World Mental Health Day video, You Are Not

Alone. In just over two minutes, it tells the story of two friends attending matches together. One seems upbeat and outgoing, the other quieter and withdrawn. The twist? It's the seemingly happy friend who sadly dies from suicide. The message is clear: you can't see when someone is struggling, so check in on those around you.

The campaign went viral with over 60 million views and was praised globally for its honesty and impact. Norwich even partnered with Samaritans and gave up shirt sponsorship space to amplify the message. It's a reminder that football, often associated with bravado, can be a vessel for care, connection and life-saving conversations.

So, what do we celebrate today?

Not bravado or dominance, but tenderness and courage.

Men who show up with softness, care and truth - and the people, organisations and spaces who embrace them. Because that is what belonging looks like.

Whether you've lived it, witnessed it, or longed for it - let's talk.

Let's share the moments that cracked something open.

Let's name the men who made space.

Let's imagine what masculinity could look like when it's rooted in care.

Now... who thought you would get all of that from a sitcom about British football??