Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return 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 asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report 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 exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
