Male Friendships Form One Way, Female Friendships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?
It is good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired 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 detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let 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 talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most 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 affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked 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 obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
