Masculine Bonds Develop Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. Or so men are often told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter 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 repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining 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: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
