Male Connections Evolve Differently, Women's Friendships Another. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It's healthy to talk. Or so men are often advised, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male tendency to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet come home 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 inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the merits of the resilient and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year observation has been distilled into a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow states.

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

Beyond Words: A Tacit Language of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Rather, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Is he right?

From a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, older men are not at all unable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't probe direct questions. Rather, 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 elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Is Connection Require Words?

This is not everyone's preferred 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 the awareness that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?

This discussion persists. Maybe the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold comparable worth, respectively meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.