Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Women's Friendships Other. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?
It is good to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging 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. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
