Male Connections Evolve Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events 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 dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers 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 ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming 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 surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told 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 obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.