Male Bonds Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?
It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 often center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying 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 four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that 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 vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true 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 difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
