Male Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, 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 historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can sound oddly 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 mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less talk.

Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.