Male Bonds Evolve Differently, Female Friendships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male tendency 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? 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 own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, 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?

From a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better 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 vent anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.