Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners 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 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 asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to 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 mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed 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 concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.