Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?
It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight 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 handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at 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 observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside 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 leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but 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 real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.