Male Connections Develop One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit 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 could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study 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 companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad 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 ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked 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 verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.