Male Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because 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 classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most striking 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 affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
