Male Connections Develop One Way, Female Relationships Other. Should We Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women?
It is good to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly 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 worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
