Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Female Relationships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked 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 intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack 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 better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.