Masculine Bonds Evolve Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. That's what men are often told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths 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 struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
