Masculine Bonds Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred 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 activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, 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 pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.