Male Bonds Form Differently, Female Friendships Another. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with 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 activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside 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 mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed 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 routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.