Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?
It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly 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. Perhaps 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 also value less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
