Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?
It is good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, 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. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
