Masculine Bonds Evolve Differently, Female Relationships Other. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women?

It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding 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 handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically center on an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can seem strangely empty and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing emotions up helps no one.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

Yet, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying 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 distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred 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—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less talk.

Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive 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 modern men brought up in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride endlessly.

The most striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask direct questions. Instead, they offered tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that always be articulated with words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.