Male Friendships Evolve Differently, Female Relationships Another. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
