Male Friendships Develop One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?
It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency 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 dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year 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 built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply 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 presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
