Masculine Bonds Form One Way, Female Friendships Other. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are often told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to 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 idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
This is 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 the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
