Male Connections Develop Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. That's what men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside 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 version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also value less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling 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 reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.