Masculine Bonds Form One Way, Female Relationships Another. Should We Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up 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 muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. 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 likewise appreciate less talk.

Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.