Masculine Connections Develop Differently, Female Friendships Other. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven'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 intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient 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 closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because 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 vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female 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 open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated 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 unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
