Male Bonds Form Differently, Female Relationships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might 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 dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to researcher 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 impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, 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 visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made 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 elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the preferred method of bonding, 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 walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.