Masculine Friendships Develop Differently, Female Friendships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is good to talk. That's what men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. 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.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered 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 naming the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
