Male Connections Form Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events 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 managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked 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: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be put into words?

This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.