Masculine Bonds Form One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to spend 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 could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
