Masculine Bonds Evolve Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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 asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.