Masculine Bonds Form Differently, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent 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 bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.