Masculine Connections Form One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Make Men Into Women?

It is good to talk. That's what men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed 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 could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem 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 value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights 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?

As a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?

This discussion continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.