Male Bonds Form One Way, Female Friendships Other. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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 managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by 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 value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.