Masculine Bonds Evolve One Way, Female Relationships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?
This is not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.