Male Bonds Form One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children 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 ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
