Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Female Friendships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?

It is healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow 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 widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient 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 struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

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

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?

This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.