Male Connections Evolve Differently, Female Relationships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?
It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless 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 personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero 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, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound 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 idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.