Male Bonds Develop Differently, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to spend 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? 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 personal friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly 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 worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights 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?
From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
