Masculine Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Ought We Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women?
It is healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version 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 pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
