Masculine Bonds Form One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?
It is good to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could 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 own friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because 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 classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better 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 express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
