Male Bonds Form Differently, Women's Relationships Other. Ought We Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might 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 own friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending 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 underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
