Male Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Should We Cease Attempting to Push Men Into Women?

It is 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 tendency 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 might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked 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—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps nobody.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Friendship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument 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 vintage auto projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly 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 articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not everyone's ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that different styles of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.