Male Friendships Develop Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?
It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male habit to spend 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? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly 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 built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, 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 open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft 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 aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest 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.
