Masculine Bonds Develop Differently, Female Friendships Other. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to 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 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—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply 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. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.