Masculine Connections Develop Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to spend 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 while? 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 own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth 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This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children 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 significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

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

This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.