Male Friendships Evolve Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are 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 personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging 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 mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly 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: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there 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 acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.