Masculine Connections Form One Way, Female Friendships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear 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 refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong 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 struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children 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 idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways 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 worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.