Masculine Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is good to talk. That's what men are often told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired 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 understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
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 clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, one is 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 sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe 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, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
