Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship

Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient 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 forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights 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 woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.