Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male propensity 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 time? 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 deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging 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 significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, 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 naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
