Masculine Connections Form One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

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

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.