Male Connections Develop Differently, Female Friendships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?
It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could 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 typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
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 isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.