Male Bonds Evolve Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity 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 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 often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly 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 idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
