Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Turn 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 puzzled by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. 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 maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other 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 ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.