Male Connections Form One Way, Female Relationships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed 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 could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from 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 four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

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

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?

The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.