Male Friendships Form One Way, Women's Relationships Other. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless 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 dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth 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This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.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 sound oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.