Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could 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 managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
