Male Connections Develop One Way, Female Friendships Other. Ought We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?

It is healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on 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This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let 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 likewise appreciate less talk.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. 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, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.