Masculine Friendships Form One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is good to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require 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 fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
