Male Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?

It is healthy to talk. That's what men are often told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend 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? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist 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 northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging 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—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered 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 Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.