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Male Bonds Form One Way, Female Friendships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. 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 value less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing 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, does that always be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.

About the author

Gregory Rodriguez

A Toronto-based tech journalist with over a decade of experience covering digital innovation and startup ecosystems across Canada.

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