Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate 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 nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
However, as per 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 the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. 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 keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
