Masculine Bonds Form One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to pass 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 time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children 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 preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave 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 likewise value less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men raised 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 "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, 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 express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.