Masculine Connections Form Differently, Female Relationships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with 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 intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
