Male Bonds Form One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused 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 might 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 dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he 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 initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.