Masculine Bonds Evolve Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, 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 come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 typically center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, 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 ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing 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 exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
