Masculine Friendships Form One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?
It is good to talk. That's what men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity 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 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 revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly 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 mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female 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 astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
