Masculine Bonds Develop Differently, Female Friendships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?

It is healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—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 imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's perspective, one is obviously 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 begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.