Male Friendships Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven'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 typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially 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 underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
