Male Bonds Form One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male tendency 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 time? 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 center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.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 point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.