Masculine Bonds Evolve Differently, Women's Relationships Other. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events 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 dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
