Male Connections Evolve One Way, Female Relationships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty 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 endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient 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 bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year 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—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
