Male Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, 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 until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent 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 closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.