Masculine Friendships Develop One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home 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 inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly 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 mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
