Male Friendships Form One Way, Female Relationships Another. Should We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?
It is good to talk. That's what men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
