Male Bonds Evolve One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
