Masculine Friendships Form Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?

It is healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective 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 the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps 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 likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.