Male Bonds Form One Way, Female Friendships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly 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 centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, 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: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe 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 appreciate less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.