Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven'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 often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.