Male Friendships Develop Differently, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 own friendships often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying 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 lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing 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 deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite 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 later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
