Masculine Connections Form Differently, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, as per researcher 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 northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially 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 underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, 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: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing 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 deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.