Male Connections Form One Way, Female Friendships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn'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 often center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending 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 underrated.

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

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.

Past Words: A Tacit Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.