Male Bonds Form Differently, Women's Relationships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might 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 personal friendships often center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—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 ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly 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 far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.