Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point 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 vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.