Male Friendships Form One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like 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. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.