Masculine Bonds Evolve Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates 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 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 inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet 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 researching 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 observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," 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 evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.