Masculine Connections Form One Way, Women's Relationships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly 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. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, 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, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.