Masculine Friendships Develop One Way, Women's Relationships Other. Ought We Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true 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 invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
