Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter 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 consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
