Male Bonds Form Differently, Female Friendships Another. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit 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 while? 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 knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship

However, as per researcher 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 historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. 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 likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern

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

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

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?

This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.