Male Bonds Form Differently, Women's Friendships Other. Should We Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging 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 value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.