Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events 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 managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
