Masculine Friendships Develop One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women?
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit 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? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. 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 unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly 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 preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
