Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to 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 imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling 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 seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.