Male Bonds Form One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could 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 private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship
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 studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.