Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Women's Friendships Other. Should We Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical 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 could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero 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, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is 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 affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
