Masculine Connections Develop Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient 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 lengthy 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—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let 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 also value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.