The Men's Shed movement has grown by 300 per cent in the past four years and is now spreading to Ireland, Croatia and New Zealand.

So powerful is the pull of the ''backyard shed'' that 1000 have been established across the country, under the umbrella of the Australian Men's Shed Association, with nine in the ACT and Queanbeyan.

The buzz at the Tuggeranong men's shed is typical. The room is filled with the sounds of drilling, sawing – and laughter.

So what's so good about tinkering, talking and tea drinking?

Jeff Kennett, founder and board chairman of beyondblue, points to the alternative.

''Where do men go, particularly when they're a bit older or if they're younger and lose their jobs?'' he asks. ''Where do they go if they've got nothing productive to do? Many stay at home and just shrink and drink and die.''

The former Victorian premier says the sheds meet an unfulfilled need of men, as demonstrated by their rapid growth.

''The beaut thing about this is they're being gainfully employed in a sense they're doing something. It might only be just getting a cup of coffee and talking to the other guys who might be making a toy, but they're actually doing something and filling in their day,'' Kennett says.

His advice for Canberra public servants who are retrenched is keep busy.

''You should do one day's work with an organisation as a volunteer, one day [a week] sport, one day gardening – the whole objective is to be busy every day, to go to bed tired at night,'' he says.

''If you go to bed tired at night, you'll probably have a good night's sleep and wake up fresh.''

For 70-year-old Malcolm Mongan, the reason for going to the Tuggeranong men's shed, one of the longest running in the territory, is simple.

''I come here for companionship, with the boys, making toys and I quite enjoy it,'' he says as he cuts wood for a toy – a truck – to be donated to a lucky child at Christmas.

His mate in the woodworking section, Peter Roe, also 70, is direct about his motivation for being at the shed.

''When I retired, the wife said, 'Get out of here, go back to work, do something,' '' he says.

His spouse saw an ad for the men's shed but he was reluctant at first. ''Once I found out what it was all about, I became hooked and now you can't get me away from the place. I come three days a week.''

Both have been going to the shed for five years since retiring from paid work.

Peter Butterworth of the ANU College of Medicine, Biology and Environment, is full of praise for the men's shed movement.

''There is a very large body of research over many years that has shown the benefits of work include providing a sense of purpose and identity,'' Associate Professor Butterworth says.

''For men, in particular, work also provides a major opportunity for social connections and interactions, and work also provides the structure and routine around which many people build their lives.

''So the loss of work, particularly for men whose sense of identity and purpose can be so tied up with their role at work, can have a profound effect on mental health. And this can also be the case with the transition to retirement.

''Even when planned, the transition out of the workforce can be traumatic. So men's sheds are an excellent response to this problem.

''They can provide a place where men are utilising their skills and experience, reinforcing their value and continuing to play an active and important role. And their social circle.

''Because for many men, their social interactions have been largely based around the workplace, the men's shed provides an activity-driven context in which important social connections can develop.''

The Tuggeranong men's shed is open three mornings a week and is run under the auspices of Communities@Work.

It began as meetings for cards, coffee and guest speakers, before moving into a new building in December last year.

''This shed was set up by retired guys and it attracts retired guys,'' president Ian Paterson says.

''Because of the freedom of time we have, as opposed to working people, it was set up so that we could have somewhere to go during the day, during the week.

''This grew out of a Sunday men's breakfast at a church in Calwell, and we said, ‘Well, what else can we do?', at about the same time that AMSA (Australian Men's Shed Association) was making itself known and the two came together.

''Everybody knows someone whose dad or grandad has a shed down the backyard where he fixes things or gets away from Her Indoors, but he does that normally by himself. The idea of men's sheds under the AMSA banner is to do it on a communal sense.''

Paterson worked as a radio telecommunications rigger for then Telecom, where his work included installing antennae on the Black Mountain tower.

''I retired from paid work at the end of the financial year in 2010 and I did a little travelling,” he says.

“When I came back, I saw a clipping in The Canberra Times or the Chronicle about men's sheds, so I rang them.

''I joined the shed because I have experience at hands-on activities, practical activities, and I wanted to keep the social aspect of things going.

''Since school I've always worked in the male side of construction and industry, so I like associating and socialising with men.

''You don't have to have a shed like this; you can have a shed that's all about line dancing. It's entirely up to you, it's what takes your fancy.

''I like that everybody is treated equally, regardless of whether you're the president or not, and I like the fact that is for the men; it's not for us to set up a hierarchy as a committee.''

Paterson believes it is much better for the retired men to be at the shed rather than at home doing nothing or ''following mum around the grocery shop''.

Malcolm Mongan and Peter Roe have steadily developed their woodworking skills over five years at the shed.

''I'm a master baker by trade. I originally owned VIP Pies before I sold it about 12 years ago,'' Mongan says.

He and Roe and the other half dozen in the woodworking group produce 30 to 40 toys a year.

''We started trying to make toys which were quite funny, the first ones,'' Roe recalls. ''We started putting a lot of effort into it and, slowly, over a couple years, we've got the knack. Now I think we know what we’re doing.''

AMSA executive officer David Helmers is delighted with the rapid expansion of the movement.

''They are filling a need … we didn't start out to prevent social isolation but it evolved naturally,'' he says.

Tradesmen are particularly attracted to the sheds when they retire and lose the social element of their workplace, Helmers says.

''It's a male-friendly environment … men don't talk face to face, they talk shoulder to shoulder,'' he says.