Male Connections Develop Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 own friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely hollow 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 until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong 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 bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's ideal method of connecting, 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 cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.