Male Bonds Form Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight 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 dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. 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 company of others who also value less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing 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 reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

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

The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.