Masculine Friendships Form One Way, Female Relationships Other. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe 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 likewise value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty 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 the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
