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

It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common 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 time? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.