Masculine Bonds Form Differently, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to pass 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 could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship

Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers 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 mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.