Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study 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 activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside 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 imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.