Male Bonds Form Differently, Female Friendships Other. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?
It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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 inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. 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 company of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?
This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.
