Masculine Bonds Evolve One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency 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 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 dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent 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 mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing 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 more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack 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 far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.