Male Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male propensity 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 time? 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 center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version 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 activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As 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 open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold comparable value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.