Male Bonds Develop One Way, Female Relationships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male propensity 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 time? How come they didn't they asked 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 knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per researcher 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 northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, 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 happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
