Masculine Bonds Evolve One Way, Female Friendships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles 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 personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state 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 countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let 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: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, 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 caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
