Male Friendships Form One Way, Female Friendships Other. Should We Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might 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 own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound 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 version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.