Masculine Bonds Form Differently, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events 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 dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study 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 activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Is Connection Need 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 despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.