Male Friendships Form Differently, Women's Friendships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to pass 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, 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: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let 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 likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
