Male Connections Form Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to 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. They remain perplexed by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Merit of Quiet Friendship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue 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 closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

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

As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the obvious issue.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

It's not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship hold comparable worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.