Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed 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 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 own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," 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: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably 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 better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. 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 Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
