Masculine Connections Form One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male tendency 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 could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient 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 developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because 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 classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. 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 ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
