Masculine Bonds Evolve Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male habit 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
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: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.