Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male habit 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 handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient 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 developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
