Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are often 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 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 managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem oddly empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

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

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

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

From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club 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 still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that someone cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.