Male Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old 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 asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying 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 contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.