Masculine Connections Evolve Differently, Female Friendships Other. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?
It is healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
