Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed 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 stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly 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 value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
