Talking to people in the UK energy sector right now, the first thing you notice is how exhausted they are. Something more subdued than the dramatic, headline-grabbing tiredness of a man pulled from a burning rig. An Aberdeen control-room engineer tells you, half-laughing, that he hasn’t slept well since late February. During a coffee break, a logistics planner in Canary Wharf checks her phone and browses a Telegram channel where stranded crews post grainy pictures of grey ships and grey water. Quarterly reports don’t reflect this type of strain. The quiet in between sentences is where it manifests.
In actuality, the Strait of Hormuz has been closed since the joint US-Israeli strikes on Iran on February 28. Normally, a significant portion of LNG and about a fifth of the world’s seaborne crude flow through that narrow strip of water, but these days, most of it doesn’t. Speaking with those who have dealt with flare-ups in the past gives me the impression that this one feels different. There were convoys and escorts during the 1980s Tanker War. The employees are aware that the response this time has been more haphazard and improvised.
| Topic Snapshot | Details |
|---|---|
| Issue | Mental health impact of the 2026 Strait of Hormuz crisis on UK energy workers |
| Region affected | UK (onshore offices, North Sea platforms, tanker crews stranded in the Gulf) |
| Reported “invisible workforce” with depression, anxiety or substance issues | Around 19% |
| The estimated crew members reported stranded near the Strait | Roughly 20,000 |
| Typical shift length on affected vessels and platforms | 12 hours and often longer |
| Industry framework in place | North Sea Mental Health and Wellbeing Charter, backed by major operators |
| UK gas storage cushion at start of crisis | About 12 days |
| Wholesale gas prices have jumped since the blockade began | Around 70% |
| Workplace support resource | Mind UK workplace mental health |
| Crisis trigger date | 28 February 2026 (joint US–Israel strikes on Iran) |
| Status of Strait | De facto closed; commercial transit reduced to a trickle |
On both sides of the blockade, about 20,000 crew members are reportedly stuck on tankers; many of them have fixed-term contracts that don’t officially end until the ship arrives at port. I was told by a friend of a British marine officer that it was “house arrest with overtime.” The ships continue to operate, the shifts continue to arrive, and the messages sent home become shorter. Some operators are rotating crews through Oman by helicopter at costs that would have been laughed out of a boardroom in any other year due to the sharp rise in insurance premiums.
The pressure is different but no less onshore. Since the start of the blockade, UK wholesale gas prices have increased by roughly 70%, and the nation’s storage cushion is only about 12 days, which is significantly less than that of Germany or France. The people who are responsible for keeping the lights on are haunted by that number. The worst part, according to one scheduling manager, isn’t the long hours but rather the expressions on coworkers’ faces when a model spits out a worst-case scenario, and nobody wants to talk about it aloud. Observing this from the outside, it’s difficult to ignore how much burden those who were already operating on fumes following the 2022 shock are carrying.
Before all of this, the mental health statistics were not good. According to industry surveys, approximately 19% of oil and gas workers are part of an “invisible workforce” that suffers from depression, anxiety, or substance abuse, and offshore employees are allegedly far more likely than onshore employees to commit suicide. When you combine a hostile risk environment for UK-flagged vessels, drone strikes close to Saudi refineries, and a war-zone designation in the Gulf, you get the kind of multi-layered stress that older workers compare, albeit not always convincingly, to the Piper Alpha years. Additionally, the “tough it out” mentality has persisted. People continue to conceal it. They continue to fear that acknowledging their weariness will cost them a rotation or, worse, a contract.
Of course, there are answers. Since 2023, dozens of operators have quietly signed the North Sea Mental Health and Wellbeing Charter, which is currently being used more than its creators likely anticipated. The use of satellite-enabled offshore asset counseling has grown. Some organizations have extended leave periods, while others have designated “mental health champions” within teams. However, a champion who does not receive rotation relief is essentially just another individual who bears the burden of everyone else. There has been a discernible increase in calls from workers in the energy sector to charities like Mind, and HR departments are disseminating helpline numbers more frequently than previously.
It remains to be seen if any of it is sufficient. Instead of fixing the cracks, crises tend to bring them to light, and this one has done so quite a bit. People who are closely observing the industry seem to believe that it is improvising—generously, in many cases, but improvising—and that structural fixes won’t receive significant attention until the Strait reopens and everyone lets go. Naturally, by then, the bill will have become due in ways that aren’t shown in any spreadsheet. A few silent resignations. a few individuals who fail to return from their subsequent leave. The energy system in the UK is likely to remain stable. It’s another matter entirely for the people inside.