Male Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?

It is healthy to talk. That's what men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship

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 studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not the preferred way 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 knowing that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.