Masculine Bonds Evolve One Way, Female Friendships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe 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 also value less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

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

This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.