Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Female Relationships Another. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.