Male Friendships Form Differently, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male tendency to spend 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 time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
The most 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 older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
