Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. That's what men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. They remain bemused by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding 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 asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable 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This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.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 toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive 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 brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.