Masculine Connections Develop Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching 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 published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave 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 value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, 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 discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
