Masculine Bonds Form Differently, Female Friendships Other. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to 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 significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.