Male Bonds Form Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. That's what men are often told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit 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 time? 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 often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.