With men more concerned about their hair than ever before, we look at how it contributes to the modern man’s identity.

Gels, creams, waxes, pastes, sprays, mousses, oils, balms, powders – there’s an endless number of products out there to help you control that weird stuff that grows on your head and face. It is estimated that the male grooming industry is now worth approximately £14.8bn globally, with hair making up the biggest part of this. Grooming experts everywhere are in agreement too – British men care about their hair more than ever. But is grooming just about vanity? Tomorrow is International Men’s Day – which is as good a time as any to think about what hair represents for men and how closely we attach hair to our identity.

The emotional significance of hair for men is particularly pronounced because so many of us lose it. By 35, according to the American Hair Loss Association, two-thirds of men experience some degree of hair loss. More and more men are taking on surgical hair replacement procedures to counteract this. 85 per cent of patients treated by members of the International Society of Hair Restoration Surgery (ISHRS) are men; the ISHRS’s latest figures reported approximately 397,000 hair replacement procedures worldwide in 2014, almost 47,000 of these in Europe, with treatments like this becoming increasingly popular.

Dr Bessam Farjo, former president of the ISHRS, explains that while hair loss is relatively normal for men it can still be psychologically damaging. “Hair loss can result in a lack of confidence which can hugely affect interaction when socialising or working,” he says. “Men might struggle to communicate as they’re so conscious of how their hair looks to others and worry that the loss of hair will make them less attractive. It’s a vicious cycle.”

But does the willingness to do something to improve one’s appearance mean that men are becoming more vain and insecure? Or is it reassuring that men are more interested in looking after themselves?

The fact remains that male happiness is more fragile than ever. The male suicide rate is at a 14-year high, and suicide is still the biggest killer of men under 45. Various movements such as International Men’s Day, Southbank Centre’s Being a Man (BAM) festival and the Campaign Against Living Miserably (CALM), now aim to address and combat the alarming and disproportionately high level of depression, violence and suicide among men.

They all attribute this “masculinity crisis” to the fact that there are too many constraints on men’s emotional lives – such as the inability to talk openly about feelings or address negative issues. While some might think that being concerned with one’s hair is about vanity, we could see it as men taking positive, active steps to improve their confidence and heighten self-expression.

What’s more, the function of hair is more than just cosmetic – the rise of barbershop culture has seen hairdressers providing a safe communal space for men, which can have an important psychosocial function. Award-winning barber and stylist Mr Parsa Rad suggests that this is something that’s been particularly driven by Middle Eastern male grooming culture. Mr Rad grew up in Tehran and began barbering when he was 14; now, at the age of 28, he’s the artistic director of one of London’s most high-end barber shops, The Refinery. “In Iran the barber shop has always been a sociable place,” he tells me. “People go there to get the latest news and have a chit-chat.”

Mr Rad believes that going to the barbers is about more than just your hair – it’s a place to go to disconnect from the world outside. “It’s therapeutic,” he continues. “You get a guy to switch off his phone, pick up a newspaper and just relax for an hour.”

The revival of the barbershop has happened in tandem with the triumphant return of facial hair – which has come to hold a particularly loaded social significance. Mr Chris Sav is a 29-year-old artist and ambassador for CALM and has been chosen to speak on a panel session about hair at this month’s Being A Man (BAM) festival in London. Talking about the emotional connection that a lot of men have with their facial hair, he says: “It’s a security thing – I’d feel naked and self-conscious without a beard. Maybe subconsciously I don’t feel comfortable with my own face and I feel like I need to hide it under this facial hair. But now this face with the beard has become my face – the shaved me is no longer me.” So the manly bravado of the beard seems to serve more of an emotional purpose for many men today – linked to reassurance and comfort.

In an era of fragile masculinity, hair and beards have become a particularly important means of creativity and self-expression. More than just something to primp and preen out of vanity – they are one of the subtle ways for men to negotiate the constraints on their emotional life, or the “masculinity crisis”, that can otherwise threaten to stifle them.