Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Female Relationships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe 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 value less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.