Male Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend 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 could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger 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 acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.