Masculine Connections Form Differently, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to spend 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 might 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 own friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue 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 impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except 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 combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.