Male Bonds Form One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired 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 private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return 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. Is he right?

As a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, 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 verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.