Male Friendships Form Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male tendency to pass 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 while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient 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 closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
