Masculine Bonds Evolve One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. That's what men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed 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 could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring 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?
It's not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
