Male Bonds Form Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events 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 own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to 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 significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.

Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.