Masculine Connections Form One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired 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 intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
