Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men Into Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless 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 coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying 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 arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging 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 value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining 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 the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be put into words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own effective way.