Masculine Friendships Evolve Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to 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 idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing 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 occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways 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. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered 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 elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the preferred method 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 someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.