Male Friendships Develop Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?
It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the preferred 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 the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
