Masculine Bonds Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Ought We Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired 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 intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply 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 likewise value less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
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 occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests 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 absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
