Male Connections Evolve Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; 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 permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness 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 stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal 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 pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding 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 combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.