Male Friendships Form One Way, Female Friendships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping 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 Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
