Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, according to anthropologist 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 the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable 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This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.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 toddlers interact—alongside 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 value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly 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 Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.