Male Friendships Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to spend 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 might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats 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?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.