Masculine Bonds Evolve Differently, Female Relationships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally 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 much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
