Masculine Bonds Form One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home 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 handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
