Masculine Bonds Form Differently, Female Relationships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven'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 typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem oddly 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 imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.