Masculine Bonds Evolve One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male propensity 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 while? How come they didn't they inquired 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 knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to anthropologist 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 northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal 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 activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed 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 discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.