Masculine Bonds Evolve Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of 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 stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

This is 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 simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.