Masculine Connections Develop Differently, Women's Friendships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?
It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend 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? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy 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This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
