Masculine Bonds Form One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to 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 version 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 activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.