Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to spend 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 could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient 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 published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly 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 ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
