Masculine Connections Form One Way, Female Friendships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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 asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero 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 countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred 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 walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
