Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Female Relationships Other. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to pass 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 while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly 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 imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.