Masculine Friendships Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight 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 revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue 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 bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way 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 difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
