Masculine Bonds Develop Differently, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying 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 published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.

Andrew Jenkins
Andrew Jenkins

A political analyst and writer with over a decade of experience covering UK parliamentary affairs and social policy developments.