Masculine Connections Form One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to pass 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 might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired 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 intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely 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 widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming 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 more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack 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 more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
