Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven'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 revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal version 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 presence of others who likewise value less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.