Male Friendships Form One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue 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 impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea 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 company of others who likewise value less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. 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 candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
