Masculine Friendships Evolve One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight 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 managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe 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 likewise value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
