Masculine Connections Develop Differently, Female Relationships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?

It is healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—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 value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

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