Male Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, 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. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

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

This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.