Masculine Connections Develop Differently, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

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

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return 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 reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.