Masculine Connections Evolve Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding 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 personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at 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 observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.