Male Bonds Evolve Differently, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no 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, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at 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 four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told 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 elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
