Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Female Relationships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It's healthy to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired 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 detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on seemingly avoiding meaningful conversation—can seem strangely empty and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear chronically angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Value of Silent Friendship

However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study 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 centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your ideal version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to spend time in the company of others who likewise appreciate less talk.

Beyond Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Rather, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?

From a female viewpoint, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while younger men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily vent frustration, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor records, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

This is not the ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, must that always be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that different forms of friendship hold comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of various individuals in their own effective way.