Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?
It is good to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
