Male Bonds Form Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study 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—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing 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 more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.