Male Friendships Form One Way, Women's Relationships Other. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency 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? Why haven'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 often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong 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 bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
