Masculine Bonds Develop Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong 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 forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, 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 seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
