Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home 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 intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. 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 looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.