Male Connections Develop Differently, Female Relationships Other. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight 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 deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to 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 imply it lacks value. 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 company of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring 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?
It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
