Masculine Bonds Evolve Differently, 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 partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with 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 private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we 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 repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy 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—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave 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 likewise value less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly 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 more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.