Masculine Bonds Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?
It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers 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 version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
