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

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles 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 dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits 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 impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care

Fortunately, 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 isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.