Masculine Friendships Develop Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?
It is healthy to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
