Male Bonds Develop Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—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 value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?

This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.