Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Women's Relationships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
