Male Bonds Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return 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 dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue 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 impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed 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 what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out 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?

This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.