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Why Do Some Men Withdraw or Become Angry Under Pressure?

Writer: Dave Flint
Dave Flint
Sep 1
5 min read

A man goes quiet.


He stops talking. He says he is fine. He leaves the room, changes the subject or gives you very little back.


Or perhaps he does the opposite.


He becomes irritable. Defensive. Short-tempered. Angry.


And quite understandably, people around him start trying to work out what that means.


He doesn't care.


He doesn't want to talk.


He's emotionally unavailable.


He's aggressive.


Maybe.


But before we become too certain, I think there is a more useful question:


What are we actually seeing — and what are we assuming?


Because behaviour tells us something is happening.


It does not always tell us what.


Anger may be what you can see


Anger is quite an obvious emotion.


You usually know when somebody is angry with you.


Shame is different.


So are fear, inadequacy, rejection, helplessness and feeling that you have failed.


Those can be much harder to see.


There is research suggesting that, for some men experiencing psychological distress, shame can be associated with anger — particularly where putting feelings into words is difficult.


Notice the wording there.


Can be.


Not anger is really shame.


Not men get angry because they cannot express their feelings.


Human beings are more complicated than that.


Sometimes an angry man is angry because he is angry.


Sometimes something else may be sitting alongside it.


The important thing is not to become so impressed with our psychological explanation that we forget to check whether it is actually true.


I might ask:


What was happening for you just before you got angry?


What did you hear when they said that?


What did it mean to you?


And sometimes the answer surprises everybody in the room.


Including him.


And what about withdrawal?


We can make assumptions about silence too.


Someone goes quiet and we may experience that as withdrawal, rejection or even punishment.


I sometimes think about something from my own school days. If I was being punished, I might be made to sit behind the teacher, facing the wall, in silence.


So silence can carry meaning for us.


But that does not tell us what it means for the person who has gone quiet.


What if he cares enormously and doesn't know what to say?


What if he is frightened that whatever he says will make things worse?


What if he needs some time?


What if he feels criticised?


Or, yes, what if he genuinely does not want to engage?


All of those are possible.


The point is that withdrawal is something we can observe. The meaning we give to it is an interpretation.


That distinction matters.


Research suggests that emotional suppression is associated with poorer social and relationship outcomes. There is also evidence that masculine norms can affect how some men experiencing depression express their symptoms and seek help.


But again, that tells us something useful about populations and patterns.


It does not tell us what the man sitting in front of us is thinking.


What am I actually seeing? What meaning am I giving it? And have I checked that with him?


What have men learned about being under pressure?


This is where masculinity becomes interesting — but also where we need to be careful.


Many men receive messages throughout life about how they should deal with difficulty.


Be strong.


Sort it out.


Don't make a fuss.


Keep going.


Take responsibility.


Look after people.


Don't fall apart.


Some of those messages can contain genuinely positive things.


Self-reliance can be useful.


Resilience is useful.


Taking responsibility matters.


Being someone other people can depend on can be a deeply valued part of masculinity.


I don't think the answer is to tell men that all of that is unhealthy.


But strengths can become restrictive if they are the only options someone believes they have.


If being strong means I am not allowed to struggle, we have a problem.


If being self-reliant becomes I should never need anybody, we have another one.


And if keeping control means that sadness, fear or uncertainty have nowhere to go, they may come out in ways that are easier to recognise.


Perhaps anger.


Perhaps withdrawal.


Perhaps drinking more.


Perhaps working longer.


Perhaps simply saying:


I'm fine.


What are you bringing to the encounter?


There is another part of this that I think we sometimes miss.


When a man becomes angry or withdrawn, we bring something to that interaction too.


Previous experiences.


Fear.


Frustration.


Ideas about men.


Ideas about masculinity.


Perhaps experience of an angry father, partner or client.


Perhaps cultural stories about emotionally unavailable men.


Perhaps the opposite — an urge to defend men's behaviour because we think men are too often misunderstood.


All of that can affect what we think we are seeing.


So I think there are four useful questions:


What am I actually seeing or hearing?


What am I bringing to this?


What am I assuming?


Have I checked that with him?


Those questions do not require us to become naïve.


They require us to become accurate.


Understanding does not mean excusing


This matters particularly with anger.


Being interested in what sits underneath someone's behaviour does not mean pretending that the behaviour has no impact.


If somebody frightens, intimidates, threatens, controls or harms another person, that matters.


Understanding why someone became angry does not remove responsibility for what they did while angry.


Understanding is not the same as excusing.


We can hold both ideas at once:


Something may be happening underneath this behaviour.


And:


You are still responsible for how your behaviour affects other people.


I think good therapeutic work often lives in that space.


Curious, but not gullible.


Compassionate, but not collusive.


Interested in the person without losing sight of responsibility.


Perhaps the first job is to get interested


If a man withdraws under pressure, we do not need to immediately label him emotionally unavailable.


If he becomes angry, we do not need to immediately decide we know what the anger means either.


We can start smaller.


What happened?


What did you experience?


What did you think was happening?


What did you need at that moment?


Did you know how to say it?


Sometimes those questions lead somewhere.


Sometimes they do not.


But they give us a better chance of understanding the person in front of us rather than responding mainly to the story we have already created about him.


And perhaps that is the bigger point.


Whether we are partners, parents, therapists or simply people trying to understand one another, curiosity is usually more useful before certainty than after it.


If this has made you think about how you respond when you are under pressure, you can read more about Counselling and Psychotherapy for Men at Charles Flint Therapies.



Seidler, Z. E., Rice, S. M., Kealy, D., Wilson, M. J., Oliffe, J. L. & Ogrodniczuk, J. S. (2022). Men's Shame and Anger: Examining the Roles of Alexithymia and Psychological Distress. The Journal of Psychology, 156(1), 1–11.


Wong, Y. J., Ho, M-H. R., Wang, S-Y. & Miller, I. S. K. (2017). Meta-analyses of the relationship between conformity to masculine norms and mental health-related outcomes. Journal of Counseling Psychology, 64(1), 80–93.


Chervonsky, E. & Hunt, C. (2017). Suppression and expression of emotion in social and interpersonal outcomes: A meta-analysis. Emotion, 17(4), 669–683.


Seidler, Z. E., Dawes, A. J., Rice, S. M., Oliffe, J. L. & Dhillon, H. M. (2016). The role of masculinity in men's help-seeking for depression: A systematic review. Clinical Psychology Review, 49, 106–118.


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