Masculine Friendships Form One Way, Female Friendships Another. Should We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless 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 typically revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
