Male Bonds Evolve Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight 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 coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing 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—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children 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 mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion 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 reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
