Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern 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 acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they made 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 Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.