Male Bonds Develop Differently, Female Friendships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male propensity to spend 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 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 center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged 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 activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

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

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.