Masculine Connections Develop Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Cease Attempting to Make Men More Like Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with 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—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.

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

Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

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

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" 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, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that always be put into words?

The debate continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry comparable value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in unique effective way.