Masculine Bonds Develop Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?
It is good to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight 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 detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave 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 talk.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling 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 apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred 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 the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
