Male Connections Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight 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 coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
