Masculine Bonds Evolve One Way, Female Relationships Other. Should We Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?
It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly 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 muted form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
