Male Friendships Develop One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return 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 dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—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 preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As 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 at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" 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 aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
