Male Bonds Form Differently, Female Friendships Other. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version 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 pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.