Male Friendships Form One Way, Female Relationships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
