Male Bonds Develop Differently, Female Relationships Other. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women?
It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed 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 comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly 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 imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.