Male Connections Form One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside 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 imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave 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 also appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.

What is striking 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 then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.