Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 own friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, 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, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation 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 underrated.

This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred 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 enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.