Masculine Friendships Form One Way, Female Friendships Another. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired 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 intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy 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 hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
