Masculine Bonds Evolve One Way, Female Friendships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong 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 impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: 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 vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
