Masculine Bonds Form Differently, Female Relationships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It is healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let 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 likewise value less chatter.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not 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, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack 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. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.