Male Connections Develop Differently, Women's Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Halt Efforts to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging 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 decades-old friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless 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. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Companionship

However, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise value less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's viewpoint, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Need Words?

It's not the preferred method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold comparable value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.