Masculine Friendships Develop One Way, Female Friendships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit 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 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 dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly 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 imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, 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. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told 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 naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
