Male Bonds Form One Way, Female Relationships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common 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 might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged 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 value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly 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 idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly 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: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
