Male Friendships Develop One Way, Female Friendships Other. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical 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 time? 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 own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong 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 closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person is there 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 styles of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
