Male Bonds Develop One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal 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 activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
