Male Connections Form One Way, Female Friendships Other. Ought We Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?
It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching 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 four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
