Masculine Connections Evolve Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male habit to pass 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 could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—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 preferred version 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 activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.