Male Friendships Develop Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship
Yet, as per researcher 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 northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: 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 vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
