Masculine Bonds Form One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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 asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
