Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
