Male Connections Form One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong 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 bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling 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 occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.