Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Female Friendships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly 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 centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.