Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Should We Cease Attempting 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 partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged 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 emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining 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 Require Words?
This is not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
