In 1981, 2,466 women in the UK took their own lives. Three decades later, thanks to improvements in psychiatric and emergency care medicine, to a range of suicide prevention barriers and policies and, perhaps, to gradual social, political and personal empowerment, the number in 2012 had almost halved to 1,391.

In 1981, 4,129 men in the UK took their own lives. Three decades later, despite improvements in psychiatric and emergency care medicine, a range of suicide prevention barriers and policies and, arguably, some degree of social, political and personal empowerment, the number in 2012 had risen to 4,590.

The latest suicide statistics from the ONS show the greatest gender gulf since records began. The suicide rate for men is now three and a half times that of women. Breaking down the statistics, the most worrying trend is a rise in the rate among men aged 40-44. It is striking too that whereas 30 years ago the risks for men were greatest in London and the south-east and lowest in the north, the picture has now entirely reversed. This tallies with research by Samaritans, who have found that men at the bottom of the socioeconomic pile are at greatest risk. Clare Wyllie, its head of policy and research, was quoted as saying: "They will grow up expecting by the time they reach mid-life they'll have a wife who will look after them and a job for life in a male industry. In reality they may find that they reach middle age in a very different position. Society has this masculine ideal that people are expecting to live up to. Lots of that has to do with being a breadwinner. When men don't live up to that it can be quite devastating for them."

While I might quibble with the phrase "a wife who will look after them", Wyllie is surely right to note the iniquitous and stubborn role of masculine gender noms in this problem. Much of this is internalised. Men are imbued with a cultural model of the husband and father who is there to protect and provide – an ideal that society continues to promote as a measure of masculine worth, while too often snatching away the opportunity, means and circumstances by which it can be attained. But the problems go deeper. There is the insidious influence of macho conditioning that beseeches to "man up" and demands that "boys don't cry" on pain of mockery and humiliation. These values are directly implicated in men's reluctance to seek help and support, whether from friends or professionals, preferring to self-medicate with alcohol or drugs with all the consequences that holds for careers, relationships, social isolation and homelessness, all of which are known to be key risk factors for suicide.

If men are often their own worst enemies when it comes to getting support in times of need, they are not helped by a wider society which often seems to treat the needs of men with the same indifference shown by men ourselves.

That suicide is a gendered phenomenon is a looming, inescapable, self-evident truth. And yet it is one that seems to have largely escaped the notice of government. In late 2012, the Department of Health issued the Suicide Prevention Strategy for England, a 57-page document setting out policy priorities which, remarkably, made no reference to gender or to male-specific issues at all. Instead, nine target groups were specified, including young people, LGBT groups, refugees, asylum-seekers and minority ethnic communities. There are indeed specific and pressing needs within all those groups that demand attention, but the rather large elephant was left silently brooding in a dark corner of the room.

The Policy Research Programme is currently investing £1.5m over three years into six suicide-related projects. They cover self-harming behaviour, the situation of LGBT youth and the role of the internet and social media in relation to suicidal behaviour. Again, the problem is not what is there, but what is missing.

Some progress at least was made in the first annual update to the Suicide Prevention Strategy, published a couple of weeks ago. Under the chairmanship of psychiatrist Professor Louis Appleby, this finally acknowledged that middle-aged men are a high-risk group. It was only a page and the proposals contained are limited and modest, jabbing a finger at GPs and community outreach programmes. Nonetheless, in acknowledging the problem at all, it marks an important step forward.

Our failure to even dent the rate of male suicides over 30 years is a national scandal and a national tragedy. It is a failure that has cost tens of thousands of lives, stolen from us too many friends, fathers, sons, and brothers. To what extent we might have been able to reduce the rates with a concerted effort we cannot know because, shamefully, we have never really tried. If the next 30 years are to follow a different pattern, then acknowledging the true nature of the problem is a vital first step.

The Samaritans' 24-hour helpline is 08457 909090