Masculine Friendships Form One Way, Female Friendships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. That's what men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency 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 could they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 personal friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value 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This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
