Male Connections Develop One Way, Female Relationships Another. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women?
It is good to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic 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. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.