Masculine Bonds Develop Differently, Female Relationships Other. Ought We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 typically revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.
Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let 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 also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is 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 despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
