Masculine Bonds Form Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness 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 centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
