Masculine Friendships Develop Differently, Female Friendships Other. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% 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 consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent 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 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 centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly 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 imply it lacks significance. Maybe 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 Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
