Male Bonds Form One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding 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 managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. 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 Need Words?
This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
