Masculine Connections Form One Way, Female Friendships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless 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 handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack 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 incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming 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 real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally 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 healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
