Masculine Friendships Develop Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, 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 decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could 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 personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
