Male Connections Form Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?
It's good to talk. That's what men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the typical male habit to spend 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 while? 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 understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.
Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship
Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly 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 value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.
Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.
Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.
The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?
This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold equal worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.
