Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight 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 revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear 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 resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly 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 deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.