Masculine Connections Develop Differently, Female Friendships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events 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 managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care

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

From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, 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 voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered 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, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

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

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.