Male Connections Evolve Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Cease Attempting to Turn Men Into Women?

It is healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit 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 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 dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear strangely empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly 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 centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem 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 preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female viewpoint, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A absence of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?

This is not everyone's preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal worth, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.