Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Should We Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn'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 deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet 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 closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value 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This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.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 point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea 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 pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

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

The debate continues. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.