Male Friendships Form One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are often told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 personal friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits 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 lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
