Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Relationships Other. Should We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?

It is healthy to talk. That's what men are often told, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? How come they didn't they asked how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—based on apparently sidestepping meaningful conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of British men state having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps nobody.

Reconsidering the Value of Silent Friendship

Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was impressed with the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation indicates that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to express what looks remarkably like care and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while maintaining normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's ideal method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that always be put into words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship hold comparable worth, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in unique powerful way.