Male Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
