Male Bonds Develop One Way, Female Friendships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles 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 managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal 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 spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told 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 obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.