Male Bonds Form One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners 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 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 asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with 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 intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet 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 studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.