Male Friendships Form Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?
It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency 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 could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven'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 center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet 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 closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to 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 value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. 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 naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
