Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners 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 come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter 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 outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—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 preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.