Masculine Connections Form One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity 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 might they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—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 let 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 talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, 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, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
