Masculine Bonds Evolve Differently, Female Relationships Other. Ought We Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit 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 while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing 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 form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at 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 published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—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 ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told 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 elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
