Male Friendships Form One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?
It is healthy to talk. That's what men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to spend 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? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
