Male Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Should We Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?
It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe 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.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
