Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners 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 personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked 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 deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; 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, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially 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 underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling 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 reserved friendships. Could he be 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 begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered 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, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
