Masculine Connections Develop Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?
It is good to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male propensity to spend 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
