Masculine Bonds Form Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male habit to spend 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? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. 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 company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, 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 is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.