Masculine Connections Form Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless 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 managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—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 version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let 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 value less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.