Male Bonds Form One Way, Female Friendships Other. Ought We Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity to spend 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? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other 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 therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.