Masculine Bonds Form One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Should We Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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? 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 typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage 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 published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea 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 pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
