Male Bonds Evolve Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.