Male Bonds Develop Differently, Female Relationships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled 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? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to 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 imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let 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 likewise value less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made 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 obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
