Masculine Bonds Form One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight 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 often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite 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 later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
