Male Friendships Develop One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to pass 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 asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing 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 exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests 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.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
