Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home 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 inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.