Masculine Bonds Form One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male tendency 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven'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 typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
