Masculine Bonds Develop Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male habit to spend 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 inquired 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 private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to 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 imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "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 enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.