Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point 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 leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
