Male Connections Develop One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles 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 often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent 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 bond forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred 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 value less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.