Male Bonds Form Differently, Female Relationships Other. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers 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 imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.