Masculine Friendships Evolve One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male habit 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 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 personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% 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 many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
