Male Friendships Evolve Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?
It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles 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 revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave 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 talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, 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 naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
