Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Female Friendships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male propensity 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by 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 emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.