Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Female Relationships Another. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely 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 widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion 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 exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told 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 naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
