Male Friendships Form One Way, Female Relationships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless 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 intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—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 version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave 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 value less chatter.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. 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 remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. 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 ask direct questions. Instead, they made 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 elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
