A new survey shows men want to have fun with their friends, not heartfelt chats. Maybe women can learn a lesson, writes Fionola Meredith
The nature of modern male friendship is evolving. Not so long ago, where close friendships existed at all, you imagine they were very much akin to the mumbling and monosyllabic exchanges between the cowboy lovers, Ennis del Mar and Jack Twist, in Brokeback Mountain, only with far less kissing. But a new survey conducted by Guinness, aiming to explore the Irish male's perception and experience of male friendship, shows that forming close bonds with their pals really does matter to young men. Seventy per cent of respondents, all aged between 21 and 35, said it was important to be able to talk to their friends about anything.
But are men really coming over all hand-on-heart with their mates? Take a look at the fine detail of the survey and a more familiar pattern soon emerges. The men who took part regarded male friendships as down to earth, genuine and reliable. Note the emphasis on upfront simplicity and the absence of tortured discussions about what someone said six months ago, and the tone in which it was said. Men want their friends to be there for them, but never to mention that fact. The male respondents almost admitted as much. They actively valued not having to talk about messy stuff like relationships with their friends, much preferring to concentrate on having fun with them instead.
So it seems that while blokes like nothing better than to relax with their mates, buying pints and slapping each other on the back, genuine intimacy continues to elude them. Not for them the hugs and squeezes, the gasps and confidences, the finely detailed narratives and cunning emotional analysis of the typical female friendship. It's not that men don't care about their friends, but they show it in a very different way. One man I know accidentally injured his best friend while playing soccer, bumping into him as they both leapt up for a header. His friend crashed to the ground, his hand to his bleeding nose. "What did you do?" I asked. "Oh, I just gave him a quick tousle on the head and played on," came the reply. "And so did he."
Put two women in the same position, and you'd never see such apparent indifference. It would be all heartfelt apologies, tissues and arnica cream.
It was ever thus. And there is still a widespread taboo on tenderness between men. Despite increasing fluidity in gender roles, the restrictive rhetoric of "boys don't cry" continues to have an impact on the male of the species from early childhood. The psychoanalytic theorist, Nancy Chodorow, says that these gender differences really do come from our upbringing. While little girls are encouraged to develop relational, caring capacities by emulating their mother, little boys learn to reject "female" characteristics - such as nurturing and empathy - in order to adopt a masculine gender identity, autonomous and aloof. She believes that these psychic differences actively encourage men to deny their femininity, and to be emotionally distant from women and from each other.
The ongoing social suspicion of male fragility or vulnerability means that many men don't feel able to share their intimate thoughts and fears, instead putting on a more or less convincing front of carefully maintained competence and assurance. Writer Norah Vincent, who spent 18 months passing herself off as a man, got a real insight into the disguises that men use.
"I have never felt more vulnerable to total strangers, never more socially defenceless than in my clanking suit of borrowed armour," she says. "But then, I guess maybe that's one of the secrets of manhood that no man tells if he can help it. Every man's armour is borrowed and 10 sizes too big, and beneath it he's naked and insecure and hoping you won't see. That, maybe, was the last twist of my adventure. I passed in a man's world not because my mask was so real, but because the world of men was a masked ball. Eventually I realised that my disguise was the one thing I had in common with every guy in the room."
But maybe it's wrong to encourage men to drop their disguises and stand emotionally naked in front of each other. Intimacy comes at a price after all, and getting honest and up close with a friend can be hard work. In fact, perhaps it's women who should be learning to emulate the sweet simplicity and jovial fun of male friendships, weaning themselves off those torrid confidences and giggly late-night chats with their female pals. The brothers are showing us the way. A little less conversation, a little more action, could be the recipe for friendship success.