Male Connections Form One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
