Male Bonds Evolve One Way, Female Friendships Another. Ought We Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common 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? 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 personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern
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 touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.
