Male Connections Develop Differently, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired 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 knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; 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, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—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 mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.