Male Bonds Form One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
