Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency 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 could 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—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent 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 bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
