Masculine Connections Form One Way, Female Friendships Another. Should We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are often told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent 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 predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let 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 also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
