Masculine Bonds Evolve Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?
It is good to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of connecting, 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 be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
