Masculine Connections Develop Differently, Female Relationships Other. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling 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 exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.