Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
