Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to 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 significance. 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 presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
