Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Female Friendships Another. Ought We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding 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? 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 own friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths 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 impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—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 idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let 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 talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's 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 knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.