Male Connections Develop One Way, Female Relationships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain bemused by the common male habit to spend 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 while? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can appear oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

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

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a female perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless 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 ask direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique effective way.