Masculine Friendships Form One Way, Female Relationships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired 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 style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.