Male Bonds Develop One Way, Female Friendships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might 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 own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly 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 value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: 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 presence of others who also value less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made 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 verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.