Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Female Relationships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass 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? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with 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 style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
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 studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps 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 appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person 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 varied styles of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.