Masculine Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight 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 own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.