Masculine Friendships Develop Differently, Female Relationships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?
It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
