Male Connections Develop One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?
It is healthy to talk. Or so men are often instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? 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 typically revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship
Yet, according to researcher 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 struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because 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 vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better 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 happily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
It's 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 knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?
The debate persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in unique powerful way.
