Masculine Bonds Form One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women?
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male tendency to spend 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 managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at 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 mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—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 idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. 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 company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.
