Male Friendships Develop Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet 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 forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let 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 value less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt 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 articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
