Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Female Friendships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical 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 could they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study 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 built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem 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 ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need 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 combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
