Masculine Connections Develop Differently, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?
It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
