Male Friendships Develop Differently, Female Friendships Other. Ought We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return 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 handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. 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 appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is striking 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 was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.