Male Bonds Form Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend 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 time? 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 personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to researcher 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 bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit 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 emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.