Male Connections Form One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up 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This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
