Masculine Bonds Evolve One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless 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 typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending 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 companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk.

Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring 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?

It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.

Christopher Marshall
Christopher Marshall

Emma Hartley is a London-based design writer and curator, passionate about exploring the intersection of technology and art.