Masculine Friendships Evolve Differently, Female Relationships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient 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 bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up 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 anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to 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 idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride 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 affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.