Masculine Connections Form One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven'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 often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK 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 consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.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 engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: 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 classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there 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 forms of friendship hold comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.