Male Bonds Form Differently, Women's Relationships Other. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?
It is good to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male habit 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 could 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 personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing 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 companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging 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. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
