Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might 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 managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
