Male Friendships Develop One Way, Female Relationships Other. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might 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 dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.