Masculine Connections Form One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Halt Efforts to Push Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles 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 personal friendships often center on an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet 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 developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea 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 spend time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up 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.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry comparable worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.