Male Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return 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 asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface 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 suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
