Male Bonds Evolve Differently, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit 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 while? Why haven'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 often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps 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 appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most 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 care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
