Male Bonds Develop Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around 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 suggests.

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe 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 likewise appreciate less talk.

Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. 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 better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.