Masculine Connections Form One Way, Female Relationships Another. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male habit 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 might 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 often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, 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 until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem 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 preferred version 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 pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.