Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships Other. Ought We Halt Efforts to Push Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to spend 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 while? Why haven't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised 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This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to 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 classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.