Masculine Connections Form One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It is healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles 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 often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem oddly empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent 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 developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to 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 idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing 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 seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?

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