Male Connections Develop Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Cease Attempting to Push Men More Like Women?

It is good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the resilient and silent 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 forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.

Past Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite 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 noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry comparable value, respectively satisfying the psychological needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.