Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships Other. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?
It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might 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 own friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that 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 classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
