Masculine Bonds Develop Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?
It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to spend 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 could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave 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 likewise value less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
