Male Connections Develop One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.