Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events 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 deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, 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 seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.