Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet 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 closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe 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 likewise value less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly 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 do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
