Male Bonds Evolve Differently, Female Relationships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return 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 personal friendships often center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred 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 activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.

Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.