Male Bonds Form One Way, Female Friendships Another. Should We Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?
It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% 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 many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship
However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Granted, 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 version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.
Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating 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 surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
From a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
