Masculine Bonds Develop Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women?
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male habit to spend 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? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing 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 seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.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 engaging 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. 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 talk.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.