Male Connections Form One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home 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 managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion 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 apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
