Male Connections Develop One Way, Women's Relationships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is healthy to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might 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 revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing 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 deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

As a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.