Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven'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 often revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe 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 likewise value less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, 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 naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
