Male Bonds Form One Way, Female Friendships Another. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It is healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home 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 asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly 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 preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. 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: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.