Masculine Bonds Form Differently, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely 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 consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at 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 study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up 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 muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly 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. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the ideal way 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 is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
