Masculine Connections Form Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could 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 own friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let 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 likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.