Male Connections Evolve Differently, Women's Relationships Other. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding 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 coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—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 value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
