Masculine Bonds Evolve Differently, Female Relationships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. No wonder, 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 consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits 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 impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave 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 also appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?

This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.