Male Friendships Evolve Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, 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 utterly clueless 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 handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.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—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because 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 vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
