Masculine Connections Develop Differently, Women's Relationships Other. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?

It is healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps 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 talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

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

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.