Masculine Bonds Develop Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women?
It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding 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 managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
