Male Bonds Form One Way, Female Friendships Another. Should We Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 own friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe 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 also value less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, 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 Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
