Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
