Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Female Friendships Other. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study 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 centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—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 mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let 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 likewise value less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is 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 the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.