Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

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

As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining 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 Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.