Masculine Friendships Evolve One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male habit 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? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," 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 preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.