Masculine Bonds Develop Differently, Female Friendships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home 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 managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack 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 more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. 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 method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.