Masculine Bonds Develop Differently, Women's Relationships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?
It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
