Masculine Friendships Form One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events 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 managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly 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 pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient 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 lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
