Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often advised, 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 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 coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Friendship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't imply 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 also value less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

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

Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except 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 combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.