Male Connections Develop One Way, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Push Men Into Women?

It is beneficial to talk. Or so men are often told, by everyone 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 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 typically revolve around an intimate and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look oddly hollow and sad. It's no surprise, one might think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Value of Quiet Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue 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 impressed with the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how young children interact—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 preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean 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 talk.

Beyond Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Care

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

From a woman's perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly open. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will happily express anger, hope, discontent, or pride endlessly.

The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what looks remarkably like care and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask direct questions. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not everyone's ideal way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply the awareness that someone is there enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?

This discussion persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship carry comparable value, each satisfying the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.