Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Relationships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to pass 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 time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring 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?
It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
