Male Bonds Evolve Differently, Female Friendships Other. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
