Male Connections Evolve One Way, Female Friendships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight 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 handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.