Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet 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 closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"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This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.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 young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument 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 leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant 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 absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.