Masculine Bonds Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make 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 women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home 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 often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent 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 developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing 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 underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.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 clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling 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 happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made 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 obvious issue.
The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
