Male Bonds Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It is healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

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

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

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.