Male Bonds Form One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 typically revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.