Male Connections Form One Way, Female Friendships Other. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? 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 personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return 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 exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

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

This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.