Male Connections Develop Differently, Female Friendships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter 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 many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong 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 closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.