Male Bonds Evolve Differently, Female Relationships Another. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient 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 bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers 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 preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.