Masculine Connections Form One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women 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 could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred 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—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly 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 Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

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

This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.