Male Bonds Develop Differently, Female Relationships Other. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: 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 vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion 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. Could he be right?
From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?
It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial 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 articulated with words?
The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
