Male Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Should We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to spend 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave 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 Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.