Male Bonds Develop One Way, Female Friendships Other. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse 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 unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed 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 worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive 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 happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is 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 clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: 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 low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
