Masculine Connections Evolve Differently, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical 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 might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked 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 detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea 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 also appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men raised 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 acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
