Masculine Connections Form Differently, Female Friendships Other. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because 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 likewise appreciate less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a female 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 discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—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 persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.