Masculine Friendships Evolve Differently, Women's Relationships Other. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are often told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events 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 dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—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 version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
