Male Connections Evolve One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight 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 typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship

Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation 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 companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's perspective, one is obviously 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 remarkably forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.