Masculine Connections Form One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the common male tendency to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked 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 understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and unfulfilling. 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 visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing 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 happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.