Masculine Connections Develop One Way, Female Friendships Other. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is healthy to talk. Or so men are constantly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male tendency to pass 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 time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear chronically angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can sound oddly similar to how toddlers play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are far from unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned struggling, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares 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 forms of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.