Male Bonds Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?

It is healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from 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 published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less chatter.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a female 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 forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.