Male Bonds Evolve One Way, Female Relationships Another. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version 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 appreciate less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly 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 Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.