Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless 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 handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably 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 more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable 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 aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares 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 different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
