Male Bonds Develop One Way, Female Relationships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male propensity 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 could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; 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 angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.