Masculine Friendships Develop One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could 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 managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: 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 makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed 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 deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method 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 someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
