Masculine Friendships Evolve Differently, Female Relationships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could 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 managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged 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 stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
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 concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally 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. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
