Masculine Bonds Form Differently, Women's Friendships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male tendency to pass 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? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing 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 style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient 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 closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
