Male Friendships Develop One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing 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 underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply 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 also value less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
