Male Bonds Form One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.
Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.