Male Bonds Form Differently, Female Relationships Other. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male habit 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 could 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 encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, 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 in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside 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 imply 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 appreciate less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

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