Masculine Bonds Evolve Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching 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 four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved 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 hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
