Male Connections Develop Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles 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 often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
