Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to pass 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred 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 activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.