Male Bonds Develop Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?
It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.
