Male Bonds Develop Differently, Female Friendships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to spend 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 while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit 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 unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to 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 imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks 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 records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
