Masculine Connections Develop Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might 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 own friendships typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially 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This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm 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 sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
