Male Friendships Develop Differently, Women's Relationships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from 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 four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred version 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 enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
