Masculine Bonds Form One Way, Female Relationships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?

It is healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up 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This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to 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 imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care

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

As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.