Masculine Bonds Form One Way, Women's Relationships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional 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, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable 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 then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
