Male Bonds Evolve Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male habit to spend 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 while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching 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 distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version 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 company of others who also appreciate less talk.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.