Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Female Relationships Other. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet model 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: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.