Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient 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 predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told 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 obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.