Masculine Connections Evolve Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding 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? Why haven'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 center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
