Male Bonds Evolve One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?

It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male habit 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 dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying 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 distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally 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 persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.