Male Friendships Form Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
