Male Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from 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 mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

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

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.