Male Bonds Form Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship

Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond 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 value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed 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. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.