Male Friendships Develop One Way, Women's Relationships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?
It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to pass 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? 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 own friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow 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 see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave 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 Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
