Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity to pass 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 inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth 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.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.
Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
