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

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women 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 return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.