Male Connections Form One Way, Women's Relationships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.
Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
