Masculine Bonds Form Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged 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 stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea 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 spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.