Male Bonds Develop Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?
It is good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners 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 utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged 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 emotional restraint, the worth 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 anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
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 therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
