Masculine Connections Form Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven'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 center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
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 isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
