Masculine Bonds Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male propensity 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 asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside 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 mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts 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 didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. 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, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.