Masculine Connections Form Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could 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 personal friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging 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 mean it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less chatter.

Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely 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 perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially 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 altogether.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not the ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.