Male Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Relationships Other. Ought We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles 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 personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. 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 also appreciate less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, 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 exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.