Male Bonds Evolve Differently, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It is healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could 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 personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into 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—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.