Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly 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 underrated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.

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 affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.