Masculine Friendships Evolve Differently, Female Friendships Other. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits 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 mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car 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 explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
