Male Bonds Evolve One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return 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 asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. 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: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
