Masculine Bonds Form Differently, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return 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 coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly 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 significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
