Male Friendships Form One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit 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 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 own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British 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 outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
