Masculine Bonds Develop Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 typically center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet 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 bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version 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 pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.