Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly 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 centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children 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—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
