Male Bonds Develop One Way, Female Relationships Another. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women?
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male propensity 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 while? How come they didn't they asked 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 innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly 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 value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
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 evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
