Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Women's Relationships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return 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 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 knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship

Yet, according to anthropologist 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 impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

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

From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express 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 probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not the ideal method of connecting, 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 someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.