Masculine Bonds Form Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.