Masculine Bonds Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return 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 seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
