Male Bonds Develop Differently, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, 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 return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient 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 developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating 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 happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.