Masculine Bonds Form Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might 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 own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.