Masculine Bonds Form One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to 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 imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways 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. 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 keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.