Masculine Bonds Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven'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 often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient 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 developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.