Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging 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 imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating 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 occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly 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 Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.