Masculine Connections Form Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.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 argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred version 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 pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like concern and solidarity. 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 ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not the preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.