Masculine Bonds Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles 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 typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point 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—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, 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 surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.