Male Bonds Develop Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial 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 typical male propensity 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 could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return 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 seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.