Masculine Connections Form One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are often instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. They remain puzzled by the common male habit 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? 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 typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that over a quarter of UK men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship

Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond developed among these mostly older men. His four-year observation has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted form of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly 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 version 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 enjoy time in the company of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor calling for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and low mood—is simply the awareness that another person cares enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate continues. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.