Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male propensity 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 while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that 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 pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.