Male Bonds Develop Differently, Female Relationships Another. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, 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 repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. 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 better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
