Masculine Bonds Develop Differently, Female Friendships Other. Ought We Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that 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 classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.