Masculine Bonds Form One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events 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 deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British 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 outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

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