Male Connections Develop One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—next to 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 idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true 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 articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
