Male Connections Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?

It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male habit to pass 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 time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship

Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths 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 closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal 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 modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.