Masculine Bonds Develop Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 own friendships typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, according to 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 heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean 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 presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.