Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could 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 often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside 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 significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.