Masculine Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might 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 dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. 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 company of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
